


Break Me Into Halves

by Swlfangirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, M/M, Not tagging all the sex, PrettyWomanEsque Vibes, Prostitute Derek Hale, Werewolf Derek Hale, alternating pov, there's some boy on boy love okay? k!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: “Uh, not this again. I’m legit. I’ve just got one of those faces that make me look like a prepubescent kid,” he said, taking a second to flick his gaze up and down the full length of the stranger’s body. “Are you some sort of new hire? Dude, I dunno who did your orientation or whatever, but you should know that you’re supposed to bounce people going in, not coming out.”Stiles couldn’t really believe what was happening. He took out his wallet and flashed his I.D. anyway. The last thing he needed was someone calling the sheriff, which would have totally ruined his light buzz.The wall of muscle looked it over and scoffed. “There is no way that this is your name; It has to be made up. What did you do? Just push a bunch of random keys together?”“Harsh, man. That IS my real name by the way, and I’ll have you know just because you can’t pronounce it, doesn’t make it fake."
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 54
Kudos: 649





	Break Me Into Halves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrayCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayCoffee/gifts).



> This has been looked over but honestly I'm not sure if it's been properly beta'd, it's been like 2 years since I finished it and I can barely remember what happened yesterday so...
> 
> This is for Dana, it was Dana's fic before it was anything and it took me like 2-3 years to finish it for her... and again, it's been finished for ages and I didn't post it, not sure why I am now either but here we go.

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice boomed from the shadows, startling Stiles until he had to balance himself against the brick wall. 

“Holy Sh- dude, You scared the crap out of me! Here’s a better question: Why are you lurking in corners and traumatizing unsuspecting club-goers?” Stiles asked, his pulse picking up to an unreasonable pace when he took in the man beside him. He was gorgeous and looked as if he’d walked right out of a wet dream. He was clad in a tightly-stretched shirt and jeans that had to be cutting off circulation. 

“Teenagers aren’t allowed in the club, so I’m asking you one more time: What are you doing out here?” The harsh roughness of his voice did not make the picture any less appealing. Stiles nearly swallowed his tongue when the guy stepped forward and the street lamp lit him up entirely. 

“Uh, not this again. I’m legit. I’ve just got one of those faces that make me look like a prepubescent kid,” he said, taking a second to flick his gaze up and down the full length of the stranger’s body. “Are you some sort of new hire? Dude, I dunno who did your orientation or whatever, but you should know that you’re supposed to bounce people going in, not coming out.” 

Stiles couldn’t really believe what was happening. He took out his wallet and flashed his I.D. anyway. The last thing he needed was someone calling the sheriff, which would have totally ruined his light buzz. 

The wall of muscle looked it over and scoffed. “There is no way that this is your name; It has to be made up. What did you do? Just push a bunch of random keys together?” 

“Harsh, man. That IS my real name by the way, and I’ll have you know just because you can’t pronounce it, doesn’t make it fake. Also, since I’m in the mood to share a little extra, I’ll tell you that I can’t say it properly either. It’s Polish for ‘gravity.’ Which, admittedly, is an odd thing to name a child, even in Poland. Buuuut, you can’t deny it’s a force of nature. So there. Ha!” he replied. Stiles pushed a finger into the man’s chest and was met with hard resistance, not even a small amount of give. He groaned internally. Of course he’d meet the man of his dreams, only to have the world’s most awkward club-leaving experience. 

He heard a small chuckle and realized, belatedly, that maybe he’d done something right. Stiles looked up and swore he saw the gorgeous hazel eyes flash red. It threw him off guard just a little. It didn’t help that Mr. “I’m-too-sexy-for-my-shirt” had been smiling at him, and it was an adorable grin. His front teeth poked out just a little more than the rest and it made Stiles’ heart skip a beat... maybe two. He couldn’t say.

“Well, you’re not lying, so there’s that. No one would ever try to claim that name if it wasn’t theirs.” There was a fondness in his eyes that was quickly cut off as he continued, “You should get a cab. It’s not safe out here.”

“Dude, pick a side of the fence, you’re giving me whiplash. One minute you’re a real person, the next you switch over to a serial killer chic android,” he said and quickly remembered that he wasn’t the only one skilled in the art of deflection. “Wait, wait, you never answered my question. What are you doing out here? I mean besides preying on unsuspecting, perfectly legal, patrons, obviously.” He must have had a death wish. There was no other way to explain why he was pushing the already mostly-angry man who was twice, maybe three times, his size. 

“I’m uh.. looking for company,” he sighed, as if it were putting him out to admit it. Stiles watched as the man’s eyes tracked over him in an effort to size him up, “with someone who can afford my time,” he finished.

Well, Stiles can understand that. He thought if he’d ever gotten to the point of selling himself he probably wouldn’t be super proud of it either. Of course that would have meant he wasn’t a great big old virgin with no technical experience whatsoever. 

Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but he didn’t really count making out with some girl at a party over five years ago as sexual expertise. He hadn’t even managed to get a hand up her shirt before he had to leave.

“Dude, that’s cool, well... not cool. I mean, it probably sucks to be you sometimes but... I mean at least you’re getting some on the regular, right? Count your blessings, man. At least you’re not mid-twenties and as pure as the driven snow.” Stiles gestured to himself, raised a brow, and waited on a response.

He watched as the stranger’s eyes widened in disbelief. That seemed to be a common reaction among anyone who found out the status of his chasteness. Silence fell between them and he returned his wallet to his back pocket. He was just about to walk away when he heard a softer version of the guy’s voice. 

“Are you, uh, saving yourself? Cause if you are, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Stiles tried not to let his self-deprecating nature get the better of him. He wanted to believe that it wasn’t pity in the words, but genuine acceptance. He couldn’t hold back the loud “Ha.”. 

“Nah, I wish. That would at least make for a better story. Truth is, I had a huge crush on an unattainable lady for all of my early childhood and most of my teens. I didn’t see anyone else. When I went away to college, I noticed that there was more to life than Lydia Martin, no matter how amazing and wonderful she was. I saw gorgeous girls everywhere I looked and equally attractive guys. I thought for a while that meant it was my time to shine, y’know?” The guy nodded encouragingly, but didn’t speak. 

“Then uh… my dad got sick. I mean he’s okay now, but I dropped out of college to move back home and take care of him. I was lucky enough to get a job with Google, which was a stepping stone to doing my own coding and stuff. Before I knew it, my dad was feeling better, and I really didn’t have any desire to go back to school. I mean, I was happy with what I was doing. So I uh... made a few bucks, did some traveling, now I’m back in Beacon Hills. Almost everyone around here has known me since I was either in diapers or the spazzy geek they went to school with. I don’t think they’ll ever see me any differently. It doesn’t exactly conjure the ‘sex-me-up’ picture.” Stiles can feel the heat crawling up his neck, he knew the stranger would see exactly how embarrassed he was about his non-existent sex life, love life, or anything in between.

“Well lucky for you I just moved here last month, and you are all grown up… right?” It was clearly a line, meant to tease him, and damned if it didn’t go straight to his dick. Stiles bit his lip and thought about the situation for what it was. He had plenty of money, but was a hooker really the best way to go? Maybe once it happened, it would be easier for it to happen again.   
_ “That’s probably a thing,”  _ he muttered to himself. 

“You, uh… got something I can call you? I’m pretty sure Casanova McScaryPants isn’t going to flow very freely in a moment of passion,” he teased. He was good at deflection, maybe if he talked his way around the awkward he’d finally lose his v-card.

The next thing Stiles knew he was deliciously pinned against the cold brick of the building by a hard body, giving him more than the already countless fantasies his brain had recommended. He swallowed hard. He hoped he didn’t look too much like the virginal teen who was one touch away from spilling in his jeans, which was far closer to reality than he would have liked. He thought that he had built up a fairly decent amount of stamina, but his own hand was no match for the prospect of someone else. The fact that the someone else might be a gorgeous  _ Playgirl _ centerfold, who would more than likely play a recurring role in every fantasy in his future, was a bit overwhelming.

“You can call me Derek, but I’m not holding out hope that you’ll be able to remember it, or your own name either.” A dirty grin worked its way across Derek’s handsome face until Stiles felt his pulse rocket under his skin. He knew he was screwed when he saw the curve of dimples; Derek’s smile had to be the eighth wonder of the world.

He shook his head to bring himself back to reality. He realized that his thoughts were probably the furthest thing from normal when making a decision as to whether or not he should actually pay for sex. 

Sure, it was okay in theory. Hell, the prospect of no longer being a virgin was almost enough for an automatic yes, but then what? It didn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself the next time. If anything, it only ensured it. 

Derek’s job, should he be hired, would be to tell him he was great,  _ blah blah blah _ . Stiles wanted actual realistic feedback, and he needed to know the areas that he could improve. There might even be spreadsheets involved at some point. Then whenever he finally found someone who wanted to go beyond the all too comfortable friendship space, he’d be prepared. 

“Uh...wow,” he said, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat and fighting back the tremor of anxiety building inside him. If he was being honest Stiles knew the minute Derek said he was looking for company that he wanted to take him home. Funnily enough, he'd managed to convince himself that this decision was a sober one. Although, he hadn’t drank much and his buzz had begun to drift away the moment he was assaulted by the cool air outside the club.

“I think it’s working,” Derek teased. His eyes lit up in an almost unnatural way. Stiles had to take a deep breath before he could respond. “ _ Pull it together, dumbass” _ he told himself. Apparently overly-attractive people short-circuit his borderline-genius intellect.

“No, no way. I’m very talkative, as a matter of fact you’ll probably have a hard time getting me to shut up, or be still for that matter. You’ll probably have to hold me down, “ He groaned at that thought, completely caught off guard by the actual crap that spilled from his mouth. “I mean, uh.. that’s not what I meant. Just … back away for a minute okay. Jesus, it’s like you’re hotness is interfering with my brainwaves.”

Derek shook his head in complete disbelief. Stiles could understand: he’d just told the only person interested (almost eager, even) in touching his junk to get out of his personal space. Once the hazy combination of liquor and arousal cleared a little, he finalized his plan. 

“Okay, I uh.. I have a proposition for you. I mean.. you know, a  _ different  _ one. I want someone who’s willing to teach me. I want to be good at sex and... sex things. I also need realistic feedback. I mean, I’m a klutz on any given day, but I really want you to be honest with me and tell me if I’m getting it all wrong, if that’s the case.” Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck but continued. “I know that different things work for different people, y’know, but there have to be some overlapping areas in there and I wanna not be so… intimidated by those areas. If you think you can do that or you want to... um.. I think I could probably double your nightly rate, every night for a week or two, until we’re sure that I uh.. I’m not gonna have any more problems.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. His body was riddled with jolts of excitement as he took in the shocked look on Derek’s face. He wasn’t usually the nervous type, but this was unexplored territory in so many ways. 

“You don’t even know what I charge. I could lie and tell you it was some outrageous amount and you’ve just offered to double it.” Derek hesitated, eyeing him warily. It was clear that he was trying to figure out whether or not he was being messed with. “You expect me to buy the  _ IT entrepreneur _ line… okay, how do I even know you’re good for it?” 

Stiles lifted his wallet out for the second time that night, feeling much more excited than he had before. He pulled one of the sharp blue cards from the side pocket and passed it to Derek. A small smile tugged at his lips; he loved when people found out who he was. Not in the “I want to be famous and everyone to know me way,” but more for the look of revelation on their faces as they took in the very young CEO of Spark Technologies. 

“I’m not sure which is worse, your given name or the one you chose. Stiles Stilinski? Really?” 

_ “Asshole,” _ he muttered under his breath. He knew Derek was teasing him, by the light, almost playful tone he used, however, he was still kinda being a dick. Stiles wasn’t going to hold back. He lunged for the card but he wasn’t fast enough. Derek’s hands had already pulled the card behind his back and shoved it in his pocket. 

“You know what I think,  _ Stiiiiiiles _ . I think you like that I’m an asshole. I think you’d really like for me to crowd you against that wall and take you right here in the alley,” Derek said, his eyes going darker. He moved forward, not actually crowding Stiles against the wall, but close enough to cause his head to spin.

“Fuck,” he couldn’t stop the word from coming out once his brain supplied the image of Derek holding him up against the brick building. He imagined his legs curling around the solid muscle of Derek’s waist and their bodies writhing together in ways he’d only seen in porn. 

“Not yet. You wanna get a room or…?” Derek waited for him to respond. Stiles tried to shake the mouthwatering images that were making his jeans uncomfortably tight. He was tempted to just nod and let things proceed but he was never really good at doing what was expected, or normal, in a situation.

“Actually, I probably shouldn’t. God knows my dad would kill me if he knew I was getting ready to say this, but I’d rather not pass out in a flea-bag motel. If it’s not a problem with you, I’d really like to crash in my own bed tonight. How about I give you a lift and you can uh.. call a cab or something when you wanna leave?”

“Whatever you want. You’re the one who’s paying,” Derek said. He looped his arm around Stiles’ waist and pulled him close as they walked toward the parking lot. He took a deep breath and the smell of oak, apples, and something else hit his nose. Derek’s cologne was intoxicating. Like the man himself wasn’t enough to draw a crowd around the block. His keys jangled against one another in his hand as he neared his car.

Stiles saw Derek’s eyebrows jerk up to his hairline when he pointed out his baby. The black camaro was the first trophy he’d bought himself when he started Spark, and he didn’t regret it for a single second. He’d seen a similar ride cruising the streets of Beacon Hills not too long after his sixteenth birthday and promised himself he’d have one of his own some day. Thankfully, he’d actually made it happen. 

He smiled when he watched Derek’s thick fingers caressing the black metal appreciatively. With a newfound level of courage he cleared his throat and waited for the gorgeous hazel eyes to look up.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong I can understand the appeal, but I thought you were supposed to touch  _ me  _ like that, not fondle my car. If you need a moment alone,” he smirked, knowing he’d caught Derek off guard. 

“Oh this is nothing, consider it foreplay… just wait till I’m inside.” Derek winked, quickly jerking the passenger door open. He climbed in before Stiles could manage to get another word out, except the curse hidden beneath his groan.

He mumbled under his breath for a minute, ranting about good looking assholes and how it wasn’t even fair to the rest of humanity. The night air did wonders to cool his heated skin as he tried to calm himself down. It would be impossible to measure up to such a prime specimen, even if he did have a clear anti-social vibe pouring off of him. It seemed like it would make his line of work more difficult...but somehow it just made him more attractive 

“You coming, or what?” he heard the deep booming voice even with both doors shut. Stiles walked around to the other side of his car and knocked against the window. Derek rolled it down, seemingly confused and a tad concerned.

“I’m probably going to regret this but I don’t think I should drive, even though I’m pretty sure I’m under the legal limit. Here.” He handed over the keys quickly, not wanting to talk himself out of it. The happiness that split Derek’s cheeks open left him breathless. He couldn’t help but return the gesture and roll his hands, signaling Derek to get moving.

The familiar smell of leather and pine was a comfort, even more so with hints of Derek’s cologne added to it. The engine roared to life when he turned the key over. 

“Hold on.” Derek laughed and winked at Stiles again.

So Derek might have gone a little faster than necessary, but Stiles didn’t mind. He knew where the speed traps were and they weren’t close to hitting any of them. He directed Derek toward his house, trying not to let his mind run to thoughts of his V-card being decimated in the near future or the fact that the greek god of a man next to him would be the one taking it. He reached over to twist the stereo knob, hoping the music would distract him. Thankfully it did, and he drummed out the beat on the door with his thumbs until they pulled into his driveway.

His hand shook a little as he reached for the latch to open his door; the anticipation had been building since the moment Derek agreed to this. He climbed out of his car and walked toward the front door, not really knowing what he should say or do. When he heard Derek following him, some of his nervousness slipped away. 

Stiles smiled when he saw the look of surprise on Derek’s face. Most people assumed he’d live in some outrageous mansion with a garage bigger than his actual house. Spark Technologies was a huge and successful enterprise. Short of his camaro they’d just left in the driveway, he didn’t really give off the millionaire vibe, and he liked it that way. It allowed him a bit more privacy, well that and the multiple internet hoops that he and Danny went through to keep his face off the internet. 

The living room was spacious. Filled with nice big sofa, an equally large television screen mounted on the wall, and several gaming systems. It was easy to see most of the kitchen area too. It was open and airy but Stiles loved that there was nothing even remotely ostentatious about the place, one of the reasons he’d bought it and decorated it himself, rather than hire some douchebag to come in and tell him what was “hip and modern.” Derek looked at him as if he couldn’t really figure him out and that was enough to bring a self satisfied smirk across his lips.  _ Stiles Stilinski; Man of Mystery _ , who would have thought, huh?

“Okay, so I want to be as logical as possible about this and we uh… need to figure a few things out before we get started,” he said. He slipped his jacket over the back of his chair and awkwardly pulled his converse off like a baby giraffe that had just figured out how to walk. His first thought was to scold himself for acting like an idiot. He reminded himself, though, that he hadn’t scared Derek off yet, he doubted he was going anywhere any time soon.

“Do you have any like.. things you don’t want? I think it’s best if I know in advance what not to do.” Stiles made himself comfortable on the couch, motioning for Derek to do the same. 

“Unless you’ve got some kinky sex dungeon hidden out here, I think we’re safe. Although I should probably tell you my normal rate is two-hundred fifty, which usually means under two hours. Most cases, less than one. You’ve offered to double that so the time frame can be worked around, but no more than four hours on any given night.” His muscular body was positioned deliciously against the plush cushions of Stiles’ couch. The only reason his mind hadn’t strayed from the discussion was the serious tone etched in Derek’s voice.

“Sounds good, I’ll just uh… I’m gonna change.” He walked toward his bedroom and realized that Derek wasn’t behind him. He felt the buzz of excitement crawling back up his spine and whipped his head around. “What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?” 

He laughed when he heard Derek’s footsteps coming closer, but hurried to grab his pajamas from his drawer. He knew it was a little ridiculous when, hopefully, he’d be out of them in no time. They were comfortable, though, and familiar and they were nice to have with all the new and different things that were sure to come.

Stiles closed the bathroom door behind him and jerked himself out of his clothes as fast as humanly possible. He took a look over everything and decided it wasn’t going to magically get better while he was standing there. He pulled on the soft cotton bottoms and slipped back into the graphic tee he’d worn to the club before tossing the rest into the hamper. Thinking he’d cover all the bases, Stiles grabbed his toothpaste and pushed a small dab around in his mouth just to be safe. He didn’t think Derek would mind, but he didn’t want to be the guy with bad breath. Not being _ that guy  _ was one of the only things he could put in his win column.

“Okay,” he thought. _ Now or never...right? _

* * *

For the first time a long time Derek could feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. He scolded himself, knowing he needed to get a grip on things. Just because the new client had some of the most gorgeous eyes he’d ever seen did not mean he could get hung up on this guy. Sex was the job, not a way to connect or whatever. 

He took his jacket off and put it on the door handle, making sure he wouldn’t leave it behind. It was easier to stay focused with fewer layers between him and the Jane or John depending on how his night went. He didn’t want to strip down completely though, figuring Stiles might have his own plans for the way he undressed. 

Derek liked pleasing his customers, even more so the new ones who planned to bankroll his way out. If he didn’t manage to screw it up, the money he’d make for working with Stiles would cover enough rent to get an apartment without the threat of being thrown out immediately. He looked forward to that most; he wanted to move out of the shitty motel as soon as possible. Derek even entertained the idea of getting a respectable job. He’d probably still take a client home occasionally (nothing wrong with having a bit of spare cash), but he could be much more selective about it.

He tried not to snoop. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in a client’s home, but it had been since he returned to Beacon Hills. Derek didn’t go as far as opening drawers or anything skeevy like that, but his eyes investigated the room while Stiles wasn’t there. He saw a worn photograph of a beautiful young woman with a baby on her hip and a familiar smile. It was easy to see the resemblance, long limbs and slender body aside. Stiles looked so much like her it would be a surprise to see if he took anything at all after his father. 

Derek shook his head and refocused his gaze. “It’s completely unprofessional, not to mention unbelievably weird, to be thinking about a client’s parents before stripping them of their virginity.” He said under his breath. He stopped himself from reaching out and turning the photo over, despite how badly he wanted to. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping Stiles would hurry the fuck up so he could get to work and not feel so damn anxious. 

Derek focused his hearing, wanting to make sure Stiles was okay. His pulse was a little faster than most, but he’d learned quickly that was just normal for the guy. Derek couldn’t help but cock a smile when he heard nervous rambling. 

Derek’s heart picked up as he took in Stiles, who was obviously dressed for bed. Comfortable, worn pajamas hanging loose on his hips. He tried not to show a reaction but internally his mind was going haywire. “So, how do you want me?” 

Stiles swallowed staring at the hunk of a man before him. If he thought Derek looked good in a leather jacket, he saw very quickly that the man looked even better out of it. It took him a minute to realize that Derek had said something to him - his mind wandering off thinking about how good he’d look in nothing. 

“I ... err... bed?” He said, his voice cracking a little on the last word, making it sound like more of a question than a statement.

Derek nodded, knowing if it were any other situation he’d have been smiling brightly. As it was, he needed to keep himself in check. He moved toward the bed, which also meant moving closer to his client. He took a seat on the edge right in front the younger man, putting him nearly eye level with the visibly hard outline of Stiles’ cock. 

“What exactly were you hoping to learn tonight, Stiles?” Derek licked his lips at the sight in front of him. He flicked his eyes up to meet the darkened caramel ones staring back at him.

“Everything.” Stiles blurted out, because of course his brain to mouth filter doesn’t work at the best of times. “I...um.” he half laughed, rubbing the nape of his neck as he shifted a little closer to the bed, standing but a few feet in front of Derek. “You’re the expert here. Where do you think we should start?” He asked, oddly proud of himself for not saying  _ sexpert _ .

“Well, despite that very eager approach you have, unless you plan to meet your next partner in a bathroom stall, I don’t think it starts like this.” Derek’s smirk widened as he reached his hands out and settled them comfortably on Stiles’ hips. “C’mere,” he said in a hushed whisper, pulling Stiles forward slowly until he was seated beside him on the bed. Derek lifted a hand to cup Stiles’ cheek. He rubbed his thumb over it slowly, holding his gaze into those big bambi eyes until he found his answer.

Stiles wouldn’t admit it to himself, but the way Derek pulled him down onto the bed was by far the kinkiest thing that ever happened to him. As sad as that made him feel for the potential of years of mind blowing sex wasted, it also made him feel exhilarated; It was really about to happen! Stiles licked his lips, focusing his eyes on the gorgeous swirled hazel irises and wondering how bad stubble burn would feel as Derek leaned in. 

Derek fought back a smile as he dipped his head forward, claiming the soft plump lips with his mouth. Stiles pushed into the kiss, eager, hungry, in ways that the professional in him had long forgotten. He took his time, angling their mouths until he had the perfect drag of lips across his own. Derek moved his thumb to tug down on Stiles’ chin, cleverly creating an opening for him to slide his tongue between the seam. The older man groaned when he was met with the taste of mint and distracted himself by latching onto the plush bottom lip between his own and sucking against it. 

Stiles was too busy meeting Derek’s tongue with his own to mentally high-five himself for the toothpaste thing. All he tasted was apple cider and cinnamon. He moved his tongue in further scraping along the top of Derek’s teeth. He wasn’t sure if that’s a thing he should be doing but he figured that’s why they were there. He placed one hand on the back of Derek’s shoulders, grabbing at the tight, black fabric, and the other on his knee. He rolled his thumb over the rough denim fabric, wondering how far up he could move it before he broke the kiss.

Stiles let out a moan as he slithered his hand up further; mid thigh now. He couldn’t help but push harder into the kiss. He fought Derek’s tongue; it wasn’t so much weird as different to how he imagined it would be.

Derek groaned underneath the siege Stiles was waging against his mouth. He was sloppy and he fumbled around a bit, but he was so damn eager that it made Derek’s head spin. When he felt Stiles’ distractingly-long fingers clenching into his thighs he couldn’t help the moan that escaped. 

Normally, Derek was much better at keeping himself contained, only making the noises he called sound effects in the sense that they were completely fake. Stiles was drawing things out of him that he hadn’t felt in years, though.

The fresh taste of mint rolled against his tongue when Stiles sucked it into his mouth. Others had done it before and it never really worked for him particularly, but once again Stiles had surprised Derek. He pulled away, giving them both a bit of a cool down period. Stiles’ hand was getting very close to pushing things too quickly. 

The sounds Stiles heard Derek make, the sounds  _ he  _ had gotten Derek to make, drove him crazy. He wanted to hear them all the time, wanted more. His mind raced with ideas of what other noises Derek could make. He skated his hand up further. Nimble fingers found their way to a belt buckle unconsciously. It took more than a second for his brain to register there were no longer hands cradling his neck; instead, they were pressing against his chest and pushing him away. Stiles relented and gave in to the force. He swallowed hard when their lips separated. 

It took a moment for Stiles to reopen his eyes. When he did, he saw that Derek looked just as fucked up as he felt. He couldn’t be sure if it was part of the act or not; to be honest, he didn’t really care. Sure, he wanted Derek to have a good time, wanted to be good for him, but he’d already mentioned it was his first time. It shouldn’t come as a shock if everything isn’t professional level. 

“That was good, honestly, but maybe just a little dryer,” he tried, not wanting to critique too much. He hoped offering suggestions would help ease the blow, “Start with less tongue, just use it to massage mine, and I actually like the teeth, but there are some people won’t.” Derek tried, unsure of how well Stiles would actually take the criticism.

Stiles nodded licking his lips. They felt raw, just on the painful side of pleasured. It felt awesome. 

“Ok, ok.” Stiles muttered to himself, not really taking in the advice. “You... you might have to write that down for me because there is no way I’m going to remember that.” He added honestly, unabashed by the way he was staring at Derek’s lips. 

“I mean, we can try again and you can give me some sort of signal when you feel like it’s too much or something. That could work, right?” Stiles lifted his eyes so they met Derek’s, searching for an answer.

“Yes, I.. I think I can do that. Maybe just a squeeze on your shoulder? When you feel that, don’t back off completely, just pull back. Once you have your tongue back inside your own mouth your instincts will take over.” Derek heard himself stuttering for the first time ever and wondered how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation. Teaching Stiles was sure to be the best job he’d ever had, but he was seriously starting to doubt the control he had built up over the last decade.

Stiles took a deep breath in and made himself swallow again, nodding. “Ok, I can do that. Sure. Absolutely. I just gotta... wait until it’s in my mouth and... swallow.” Stiles rambled, a nervous habit he was never able to control. It took a moment for the blushing to fill his cheeks before he realised what he’d said and started laughing. His hands went up. “I ... I mean... not like that. Oh god, I meant my tongue!” He said sticking his tongue out pointing at it, “See, my tongue not your dick!”

Derek blinked, repeatedly.

“You’re… sure… that you’re ready for this?” his brows went up over his questioning stare. Hell, even he could admit it was funny but he could smell the anxiousness rolling off Stiles. He’d mostly chalked it up to being a little scared and unsteadiness due to his lack of experience. The strength of it had grown quite a bit, though, and Derek was nearly choking on it. 

“Ready for this? Are you kidding? I was born ready!” Stiles laughed at him. “I mean, I wasn’t  _ born  _ ready. That would be weird, especially as a kid. But you know what I mean? Sex me up, McHotStuff. Teach me the ways of sex. I want to know it all. Fortnicate with me on this bed right now.” Stiles threw his hands at Derek, as if the words weren’t enough of an invitation to continue. “Please, for the love of God, kiss me again or I will not shut up. It’s a thing. I’m well known for it. My friends ha-”

Derek surged forward, latching onto the soft, swollen lips. Normally he enjoyed the build up, silently asking permission to take more, but he hadn’t really had a choice. Stiles was right, he wasn’t going to shut up until Derek made him. His nervous rambling was funny but it was already late and he wanted to move things a bit further. If nothing else, just because he knew the longer he listened, the more wrapped up in it he would be.

The feel of Stiles’ lips against his tugged and pulled at something inside him. He moved on, not allowing himself that particular pleasure. He playfully nipped and sucked his way down the side of Stiles’ neck, drawing out sounds that should have been forbidden. The thumping beat of his heart boomed inside his ears, louder than the buzz of excitement under his skin. 

“You can tell me to stop anytime. I mean it, no matter what. You say stop and I’ll back away,” Derek said, his fingers dipping under the hem of Stiles’ soft cotton shirt before pulling it up. Barely holding in a gasp, his body still shook slightly when he saw what was hiding beneath the fabric. Honestly, he’d been expecting a slender frame and small hips. What he hadn’t imagined was a perfectly-sculpted pelvis and a taut, muscular abdomen. Damn Stiles and his non-descript clothes catching him off guard like that. 

Derek took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down without seeming completely uninterested.

Stiles nodded, never taking his eyes off Derek’s lips, “Like a safe word? Got it.” Stiles said breathlessly. The curt smile Derek made when his tee was removed did not go unnoticed. He always liked that he surprised people. Usually it was just with how successful he was at a young age, but this... Stiles could spend his whole life just in this moment. He nibbled at his bottom lip trying to decide if he wanted to watch Derek take off his shirt or if he wanted to rip it from his body with his teeth. He settled instead for the most middle ground he could, eagerly moving his hands toward the bottom of Derek’s tee. “Now your turn.”

The feeling of Stiles’ long fingers on his waist sent shocks of heat through his skin. It had been too long since he felt anything like that from just a single touch. Sure, sex had been fun for him for the most part, even when getting paid. Hell, especially when getting paid. It wasn’t electric, though, it wasn’t emotional. Derek moved his hands to cover the long slender fingers against his hips and pulled them up his body, slowly dragging his the fabric along the way. 

Their fingers intertwined when he reached the area just below his clavicle and Derek glanced quickly toward Stiles which was a terrible mistake. His eyes were dark, his lips puffy and wet from his tongue swiping across them. The gorgeous expanse of his neck was just a shade redder than normal. Derek rolled his shoulders as he tugged on the cotton of his tee until it gave in and slipped over his head.

_ “Holy, shit...” _ Stiles’ voice cracked, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure, he expected Derek to be built; it’s the one thought that hadn’t escaped his mind since laying eyes on him. He could easily see the outline of his muscles under his tight shirt all night and how they bulged beneath it. It was just the ridiculousness of actually having the opportunity to touch, taste, and pretty much take whatever he wanted from someone who looked so…  _ perfect _ . His fingers moved without much thought, not wanting to waste a single moment of his good, good, fortune. “How do you not wanna lock yourself in a room and just… stare into a mirror all day?” 

Derek felt a laugh bubbling up but he pushed it down. It left an acidic burn in his chest but it was worth it. Showing affection for Stiles wasn’t in his job description.  _ It’s just about the sex,  _ he reminded himself for the hundredth time. 

“Trust me, it gets old.” Okay, so maybe he could have been a little nicer, but Derek was picking his battles at the moment and not liking his client was top priority. Leaning back on the bed, Derek stretched his body out before speaking again. “Now, this is usually the part where you’d just start kissing your partner again, but with the situation being what it is, I want you to decide what you want to happen next. You can say something small, or just your overall goal, that’s up to you. If you don’t feel comfortable voicing opinions, I’ll be happy to make suggestions.”

Stiles felt the heat flooding his face; He wanted everything. He’d have an easier time trying to come up with a list of things he didn’t want:  _ 1\. Derek putting his shirt back on, ever. 2. For Derek to stop touching him, ever. 3. For Derek to leave, ever.  _ Fuck, he was screwed.

“I’d really like to find out where that goes,” he answered, running the tip of his finger over the small trail of dark hair leading beneath the tight denim stretched across Derek’s hips. Stiles dipped further down to trace the hard outline of his dick before cupping it in his hand. He chewed on his lip and looked up to see a cocky smirk in return. 

Derek’s head fell back as the pleasure coursed through his veins. He closed his eyes quickly to mask the flash of red he could feel flooding to the surface. It took all of discipline he had not to shift under the touch. The smell of Stiles’ arousal was enough to make him pant like a damn puppy. His control was shattering at each and every point of contact. 

Derek spread his legs wide, making room for Stiles to stand between them. He was relieved that he didn’t have to give further instruction. The way his wolf was reacting to everything made him reluctant to trust himself.. Derek wrapped his legs around the smaller lines of Stiles’ body and arched his back hard. He buried his shoulders into the mattress and brought his hips completely off the bed. Most humans would just account for that by telling themselves he was a professional, much like porn stars could do unbelievable things. However, sometimes his werewolf strength really came in handy.

Stiles’ body shook when he felt the hard press of their hips together. Even if it was at a weird angle, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Of course, he told himself that after every time Derek so much as took a breath or blinked an eye. 

Stiles thrusted forward, eliciting a loud curse as their cocks rubbed together through both sets of rough denim. Unable to hold back a whine himself, he pistoned his hips even faster. Stiles knew he could get off this way, but it wasn’t how he wanted it to end. He pulled back, barely holding onto any of his composure as he reached for Derek’s belt.

“Go for it, you’ll need the practice. I’ll help you if you get stuck though, these aren’t the easiest jeans to take off.” Knowing it would be even more distracting to watch the guy fumble with his zipper, he made a quick decision to talk him through it. “You’ll probably have to multitask in the future, depending on the situation. If it’s a hookup, or a one night stand, definitely. It’s rare for either of you to want to waste time that isn’t mutually beneficial. If it’s something more serious, though, like a relationship... Well, you can probably draw it out longer.”

“Just um...” Stiles said, trying to concentrate both on what Derek was saying to him - because hey, it’s important, it’s what he’s paying him to do - and just how incredibly close his hands were to Derek’s dick. 

He chanced a glance up to Derek. “Just how long are we going to draw it out tonight?” He asked, licking his lips. Not that Stiles didn’t want to or couldn’t cum right here, right now. The thought that the whole shebang would at some point be over kept looming in the back of his mind.

Derek bucked up into Stiles’ grip desperately, for the first time since he can remember. “For as long as you want, within the four hours.” An easy grin slipped onto his lips before he finished his thought. “For some reason, I don’t think we’ll need to watch the clock.”

It took all of Stiles’ willpower to calm his shaking hands. He wouldn’t get any closer to Derek’s zipper, without steady fingers. Tugging against the heated metal, it dragged lower unveiling dark black cotton. Stiles was grateful for the extra layer, he needed a little more time to mentally prepare himself for seeing the masterpiece he was sure was hidden beneath. 

Once the zipper was down, he attempted to be as seductive as possible pulling off the jeans. Of course, it didn’t quite work out that way; they didn’t move when he tugged on them. 

“Holy, sh.. Did you sew yourself into these damn things?” Normally, it was easy for Derek to keep a cool-headed detachment. Something about being with Stiles had him off-guard and before he could catch it a loud rumbling laugh tumbled over his lips.

“I did warn you. Here, let me help, and maybe next time I’ll wear something a little less… problematic.” Derek’s hips shimmed out of the restraining denim, wedging himself loose from its grip. Once it fell over his thighs, he shook and kicked until the pants flew a few feet in another direction. Leaning back on the bed with his body splayed openly, he heard Stiles mutter to himself. 

Stiles watched, open-mouthed in awe, as Derek expertly presented himself on the bed before him, “Well that... that certainly works. Yeah, that totally works. That position just... it does things. Enhances somehow. The muscles, I mean, not your dick. But your dick is certainly... there. Fucking kiss me again or I won’t shut up.”

Derek waited until their mouths were slotted together to really let himself smile at the idiot. He knew that Stiles would be able to feel the widening of his lips but hoped he was too distracted to even notice. Derek told himself that he was smiling because it was only a part of the job; make it seem like he was enjoying himself. He didn’t want to admit that it was real.

Stiles was a fast learner; the assault on his lips this time was more measured. He felt the small tremors that made him think Stiles was a rocket set for take off in his hands. Derek took every precaution to keep himself in check but the way the younger man surged forward, licking and nipping at his lips was overwhelming. 

Stiles dipped his tongue into Derek’s mouth again. He loved the way it tasted. His hands were running up and down the other man’s body as if they had a mind of their own. One second his brain was registering the curves of biceps, and the next it was overrun by the feel of hard abs. His long, limber fingers finding their own way across Derek’s body. 

Derek groaned; his body was reacting quicker than it had even in his younger days. The taste of Stiles was overwhelming, even more so once he’d stripped the fresh mint flavor from his tongue. The way their bodies moved together, even clumsily at times was intoxicating. Derek had never been able to get drunk but he imagined that this was what it felt like. Cursing himself for getting carried away again, he pulled back. 

“What’s next?” Stiles asked, his voice strained. Derek could feel his wolf fighting for dominance, tempting him to call the whole thing off. He closed his lids, allowing himself the satisfaction of flashing his eyes.

“Fuck,” Stiles moaned as he pushed his hips forward again, seeking any kind of friction until he realized Derek wasn’t kissing him anymore.  _ Oh yeah, there’d been words and stuff.  _ “I’m sorry, what?” He’d been trying to pay attention, really he was but every inch of him that was touching Derek felt like it was going to ignite. After so very many years of sexual buildup, he really just wanted to get off from something other than his own hand. 

“Not gonna last much longer here, Derek. So whatever you wanna do is great but you need to get moving because I’m close to losing it.”

The thought of Stiles cumming while still in his pajamas and not being able to taste it caused a churning in his stomach. Derek reclaimed the bitten red lips and slowly pulled Stiles onto the bed. He laid him down gently onto his back as he continued to explore the exposed skin, lean muscle, and the small brown hairs trailing down his torso. 

Derek gave a small bite against the prominent curve of Stiles’ hipbone. He smiled when Stiles arched his back so high he nearly fell off the bed. He would lock that reaction away for later. Looking up for permission, Derek waited for the shaky nod before pulling the loose cotton down over Stiles’ thighs. 

Stiles could barely hold still. He watched as the most gorgeous, most perfect man ever slid down his body like he couldn’t wait to get his dick in his mouth. The thought of that alone brought an even warmer heat under his skin and made his legs tremble. He’d often wondered if he’d have to gag himself during sex in order to keep from saying a bunch of stupid shit for no reason. Thankfully, the look in Derek’s eyes had made it difficult for him to even breathe, much less speak. 

He was basically capable of whimpering and/or moaning depending on which part of Derek’s mouth was currently on his body. 

The thin pants hadn’t covered much, he knew the rough size and shape of it before he’d even taken them off. And yet, seeing the creamy white drops collected on the tip of caught him off guard. The smell alone was driving Derek crazy. Stiles scent was heavier, more concentrated in the heat between the vee of his thighs and, as stupid as it was, Derek just wanted to breathe it in.

Derek dug his fingers into the plushest part of Stiles’ thighs and pulled. He smiled when he heard a high-pitched squeak leave the surprisingly quiet mouth. Pushing back slightly on the long slender legs, he licked and sucked at the tightened sac, teasing himself as much as he was Stiles. 

The feeling of Derek’s tongue on his balls was better than the weekend he and Scott p’wned Jackson and Danny at Halo 3, and that was a definite high note in Stiles’ life. He wasn’t even sure he could last long enough to feel it on his dick. Maybe he'd feel guilty about it later, but probably not for a very long time. Each sensation was overwhelming but left him frustratingly unsatisfied. Stiles felt pulled in different directions, as if his entire body was about to shatter and snap back together like a tightly-strung bow. 

Derek could feel and smell the Stiles’ orgasm hit its plateau. Without thinking, he wrapped his lips around the head and sucked. Derek’s last speck of resistance failed him when Stiles managed to get a hand on the short strands of his hair. A clenched fist tugged helplessly, trying to give him some warning, but Derek already knew how close he was. 

If it weren’t for the thick fingers holding him in place, Stiles knew he would have climbed up the bed in pleasure, squirming under the equally perfect and unfair pressure of Derek’s mouth on him. He tried to warn the guy, but he just couldn’t hold back anymore. He let out a long string of curses as his orgasm hit, hard. His body jerked and quaked in response. Stiles relished the feeling of coming into the warm, waiting mouth of another person.

Derek rarely swallowed, but with Stiles he wanted to taste, wanted to lick him dry of the messy white fluid. His wolf instincts were stronger than they’d been since the fire and it quickly overwhelmed him. Trying to avoid detection with the flash of his red eyes, he kept his face hidden. His animalistic side wanted nothing more than to preen at his ability to satisfy Stiles.

A fair amount of panic hit him when he realized just how out of control his wolf was. Trying to keep his outward calm, Derek climbed up the lithe spent body and left a small kiss against Stiles’ temple. That was a treat for himself, not the man beneath him. He tried not to laugh at the way the younger man was already half-asleep as he climbed off the bed and poured himself back into his clothes he heard a soft mumble. “Cap’n Crunch” 

Stiles was so tired, so sleepy, he could barely keep his eyes open. The intensity of his orgasm was blinding and perfect. Apparently, professionals are definitely the way to go. He had to try really hard to convince himself that it wasn't just because of Derek and the excitement of have a partner with him was what made it amazing.

He didn’t believe it for a second. 

Stiles tried to tell Derek where his money was, but the words came out fuzzy. The only thing he’d managed to get out completely was the name of the box of cereal where he kept all his spare cash in the house. Surely, he’d figure it out. If not, Stiles would make it up to him next time. 

_ Next time.  _ He smiled into his pillow at that thought and drifted off to sleep.

Derek looked over the sleeping man one last time before he got the hell out of there. He scrubbed a hand down his face when he realized that this night would be one of the few times his indestructible armor had been pierced. He couldn’t risk it again. He’d have to find another way to make the cash to get himself out of the disgusting motel. If it wasn’t too cold, he might just try to find a comfortable spot outside. It would keep his nose from being attacked by the putrid smells that fester off his paid-for room. 

He tried not to concentrate on the way his wolf whined at his decision to not return to Stiles.

* * *

Stiles woke up with a warm feeling in his chest, the kind that radiated energy throughout each and every limb. His smile brightened further as his mind fought its way to consciousness and he began to remember how it felt to have Derek’s hands on him. Snuggling deeper into the soft fabric of his bedding he moaned at the memories, letting his arms and legs flail wildly in excitement. 

Once he’d given into actually being awake, Stiles pushed himself from between his sheets and made his way toward the bathroom. Slipping into his morning routine naturally, the only addition being a happy smile and a few scattered pink splotches against his skin left by the prickly hairs of Derek’s stubble. 

After showering, Stiles padded into the kitchen. The cool breeze through the rest of his apartment made goosebumps form against the bare skin of his arms. He reached toward the thermostat and stopped; hand outstretched, mouth dropped open, and an odd flood of emotions coursing through his veins. 

“Shit.” 

Stiles rushed further into his kitchen rummaging through the cabinets that seemed undisturbed. He pulled the red box from it’s shelf and dug into it. He pulled out three separate rolls of cash bound with a rubber band. Stiles was both relieved and confused. He was sure that he’d told Derek where he could find his money, and yet the man hadn’t taken a single bill. A thundering panic drew in his chest as he fought to remember the later details of their encounter.  _ Oh God _ , What did Derek think of him now? The guy probably thought that it had all been a trick or that he was just the kind of person who stiffed people in general. 

As the last spikes of fear and anxiety left him Stiles felt a cool determination set in. He’d track Derek down and pay him, hopefully before his probably mild irritation (at best) bled into a full fledged rage. Stiles wasn’t gonna lie to himself, he’d really like to finish out their original agreement and a pissed off prostitute didn’t make his chances seem at all possible. He slipped two of the wads back into the box and shrugged as his mind told him he should probably find a new hiding spot. Derek hadn’t taken anything when he’d had the opportunity to have at it all, Stiles really didn’t think the guy would come back to ravage his stash. 

“Shit, Shit,” he said, diving toward the front door and pulling it open. His eyes widened in shock, the very pricey automobile still safely parked in his driveway, even though Derek had full access to the keys. _What the fuck?_ he asked himself, wondering what kind of idiot he truly was as well as the moral fiber of a guy who’d been rightfully owed, not taking advantage of the several opportunities Stiles had apparently left wide open, to rob him.

Then maybe he had a little talk with himself about being too pessimistic.

“Wake up.” Derek heard the words in a stern but friendly tone. He sat upright quickly and opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.  _ Shit. _ He’d never slept that late before, the sun was already out and a few cars littered the streets. 

“Sorry. I’ll go,” he replied, standing up to stretch his muscles. Derek felt cramped in his body as if his wolf was purposefully making itself larger just to make him uncomfortable. He was in full control of course, but it was by far the most disconnected Derek had ever been from his animal half.

“Not so fast, son. Do you..uh..need somewhere to stay?” The man asked, surprising Derek into looking at him for the first time. It was an older man, still handsome in his own right but that wasn’t what stood out. No, Derek’s eyes gravitated toward the khaki uniform and the large golden star on his chest.  _ Great, now you’ve got the sheriff's attention.  _

“No, sir. I uh, I just fell asleep,” he answered, doing his best to maintain eye contact. There was something familiar about the shape of his eyes and the set of his jaw. When that didn’t seem to make the sheriff move, Derek continued, “Sorry I was out late and hadn’t slept good in a while and I got caught up in looking at the stars and the next thing I knew you were waking me up. I promise, it won’t happen again.” 

“It’s fine, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Beacon Hills isn’t like the bigger cities, we take care of our own here,” the man answered as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white card. “Just in case you need anything. Feel free to call. It’s completely anonymous.” 

Derek nodded unable to voice his surprise and gratitude. Watching the sheriff quickly do the same before turning away. He felt a sliver of comfort prickle back into his skin. The card held in his hand began to feel heavy, Derek wondered what kind of help he’d find on the other end. The only thing written on it was a toll free number, and the word Help. He’d probably never  _ use  _ the number but Derek found it oddly mysterious and that made him curious.. 

When he went to shove it into his wallet, Derek’s hands brushed over the much nicer blue card with Spark Technologies logo printed on the corner. Before he upset his wolf further, Derek just shoved the billfold back into his pocket. He scrubbed his hands down his face and made his way to the motel. It might not be much, but all his clothes were there and it kept him out of the prying eyes of the public and the sheriff's department. 

As soon as he opened the door, Derek was assaulted with the smell of old smoke, sex, and so many other things he couldn’t even decipher them all. He tried to hold his breath until he was safely tucked away into the bathroom, where he dug out some clean clothes from his bag. It was the one place he could breathe. It was surprisingly clean and it had a small window that he left open whenever possible to bring in the smell of earth, trees, and generally anything that wasn’t bleach. 

Derek took his time in the shower, making sure he rushed through the important parts like cleaning himself but then he just stood under the warm spray until the hot water ran out. When he got out of the shower and dried off enough to not drip everywhere, Derek trimmed up his beard. He didn’t like the way he looked so much younger when he shaved it off completely, but he wouldn’t let it get too out of control either. It was bad for business. 

That thought only made his mind circle back around to Stiles. Derek had enough money to make sure he could eat and keep the crusty room for a few more nights, but his spare cash was running pretty damn low and the fact that he’d given his time away the night before didn’t help matters, not when it could have earned him at least two-fifty, even in Beacon Hills. Derek tried not to grumble too much over it as he got dressed. The truth was he’d been a young virgin himself once. Of course, it was ages ago and it wasn’t a fond memory, but even he’d passed out afterward. Coupled with the late hour and the alcohol in his system, Derek knew he couldn’t exactly blame Stiles. He genuinely didn’t think the guy was trying to stiff him or anything. Derek was a professional, he knew better than to not have gotten the money upfront. It was his fault for being distracted by wide brown eyes and a grin that seemed too big to fit on anyone’s face.

With a rumbling stomach Derek slipped out of his door and went to the diner. They had hearty servings of good food for a decent price and he needed coffee to be up this early. 

* * *

Stiles finally got himself dressed after his first cup of coffee was downed. Knowing it would be highly suspicious for him to just drive around town looking for Derek, he made a plan. There weren’t many places to get a room in Beacon Hills, so unless the guy was crashing with a friend, or family Stiles was pretty sure he could find him.

Stiles phone beeped just as he was about to start the engine and he smiled when he saw Pops. He slid his finger across the touch screen smoothly, before digging into his message box. 

_ In case I haven’t said it recently, you’re a damn good kid, Stiles. Almost makes up for all the hell you put me through during your teen years. - Pops _

A wide grin split his face and Stiles shook his head. His dad was such a sap sometimes, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Stiles debated just answering later but he usually forgot, so he’d been doing better about just answering texts as he sees them. 

_ Have you hit your head? Do I need to call 9-1-1? - Stiles _

_ Everybody’s a comedian. -Pops _

_ Yeah, Dad. Love you too - Stiles _

Unable to keep the happy smile off his face, Stiles pulled out of the driveway. His mind still occupied with finding Derek and paying him generously for his time. Hopefully, that alongside his charming smile and sparkling personality would convince the guy to keep teaching him. 

There hadn’t been much criticism, but Stiles knew there would probably be more once Derek got comfortable with him. It must be hard to speak out against someone who was effectively in charge of whether or not you got paid. Stiles would have to draw up some sort of contract to ensure that Derek would get his money no matter what he said, then he’d never have to worry about accidentally stiffing the guy again. 

A heavy growl erupted from his stomach and reminded him of his interrupted breakfast. He’d been so consumed with thoughts of the night before as well as the repercussions that followed, Stiles hadn’t had a bite to eat. Thankfully, his favorite diner was only a few more blocks away and he could probably afford enough time to get something to eat before tracking down a gorgeous man with dark hair and mesmerizing eyes.

The smell of fried meat and warm butter hit his nose the minute he walked in and Stiles sank into the familiar aromas. He stepped up to the counter, smiling widely at Heather who was calling an order over her shoulder. He took a seat on one of the stools closeby and ordered a breakfast platter with an obscene amount of orange juice to go along with it.

Once he’d settled that, he naturally began looking around at all the familiar faces when he spotted the spiky dark hair and a matching leather jacket over the back booth and relief flooded through him. “Hey, Heather. I’ll just be over there,” Stiles said with a wide smile, before making his way toward Derek. 

* * *

He first picked up the scent when it was far too late. Derek could hear the steps that were just a foot away and the oddly familiar pattern of Stiles’ rhythmic pulse. Glancing up from his plate, he gave a curt nod. He hadn’t actually expected the kid to track him down, but then again Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly New York City, it would have been unlikely that they wouldn’t see one another again. Derek’s wolf was a combination of gleeful and smug about that fact.

Sometimes, Derek thought he might have split personality disorder with the stark differences he could point out between himself and his wolf. Unsurprisingly Stiles sat down on the other side of the booth with a wide grin.

“Dude, I’m soooo sorry. I didn’t mean to uh.. fall asleep on you. I tried to tell you that there was some money in my Captain Crunch box, but when I looked it was all still there, so I’m assuming you didn’t get that part.” Stiles’ hands flailed wildly in gesture, but he was being purposely? vague and Derek was grateful for it. 

He had to admit that while working the streets of New York never really bothered him and he wasn’t ashamed but if he planned to make a life in Beacon Hills, he’d rather not have the entire population treat him as a leper. Sadly, sometimes the small-town mindset wasn’t always a promising attribute. 

“S’fine,” Well, it wasn’t but it’s not exactly like Derek wanted to threaten him or something equally stupid in a public place. Not to mention the fact that Stiles was obviously embarrassed and trying to make up for it. Derek and his wolf were both in agreement on one thing though, they really needed that money. The human half of him, knowing the motel manager wouldn’t hold his room for the rest of the week if he didn’t have it, the wolf excited at the possibility of being taken care of by… someone important. 

“No, no it’s not man.” Stiles stopped talking, and Derek didn’t even notice why until the waitress pushed a full platter across the table with a flirtatious smile. Derek looked at her in confusion, Stiles had declared that there wasn’t anyone interested in him. He hadn’t believed it of course, though Derek could tell from the way the boy’s heart didn’t stutter that he did. Stiles must undoubtedly be oblivious. Not even twenty four hours later he’s got the waitress at the diner practically oozing pheromones in his direction. 

Derek had half a mind to just tell Stiles he could have the waitress and then take his money and go, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing one John in Beacon Hills became. If he could just work the rest of the time with Stiles, then he could get out and nobody would have to know. Derek didn’t think that the kid was the kind of person who went around telling people he’d paid for sex. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks, Heather.” Stiles threw halfheartedly back in her direction, not really taking his eyes off Derek’s side of the table. His wolf preened at the boy’s lack of attention to the fairly attractive competition. Derek might have been a little smug as well, so maybe they’re not  _ completely _ different.

“Anyway, I know that’s not cool so.. I figured I’d make it up to you. The least I can do is buy your breakfast.” Stiles said, taking a giant gulp of his drink. Derek tried very hard not to watch the bob of his Adam’s apple...he failed miserably. Without prompting, Stiles continued. “I mean, I have to head back to the house and get some work done at some point but we could.. talk, outside.” 

Derek instinctively knew that Stiles planned to pay him after breakfast, but the talk he imagined was much more of a cementing the original proposition than a friendly chat. Despite the fact that he’d planned to run as far as possible from Stiles, Derek found himself nodding along. He tried to tell himself it was just because there was nowhere to run in such a small town, but his gut had twisted uncomfortably when he thought of avoiding the guy. “Sure.”

“Wow, anybody ever tell you that you’re a real peachy conversationalist, Derek.” Stiles responded, dragging a forkful of pancakes up to his pretty pink lips.

Derek watched in awe as a thick droplet of syrup dangled off of the corner of Stiles’ mouth and the bring pink tongue sliding out to swipe at it. He blinked, repeatedly. How the kid could not know how goddamn attractive he was, Derek had no idea. He cleared his throat before turning his attention back to his own plate, only half finished. 

With a predatory grin and the rise of an eyebrow, Derek replied. “Might’ve, but they didn’t say too much after that.” 

Stiles stared back at him for a few seconds but then barked out a laugh. The sound of it carried over the short space between them and Derek immediately felt lighter because of it. They finished their breakfast, Stiles carrying the majority of the interaction. He found that he was content to just listen and occasionally nod in agreement or grunt his approval. Derek’s lack of response didn’t really slow the kid down, and the constant hum of Stiles’ voice was nice. 

The waitress came back toward their table, clearly and obviously upset with Derek for deigning to be in Stiles’ company. For making Stiles laugh, and wear the goofy wide smile he had slapped across his lips. Derek just smirked at her with an intimidating glare. Maybe he’d tell Stiles about the girl’s interest once their  _ business _ was over, or maybe he was a vindictive bastard that would keep that tidbit to himself, only time would tell.

* * *

Stiles led the way out of the diner, quickly heading toward his car. He opened up the passenger side door, hurriedly guiding Derek inside. He started the engine up and pulled out of the parking lot before he started talking again. “Your money’s in the glove box. You, uh you got anywhere to be?” 

Derek shrugged, “You can drop me off at the motel.”

Stiles tried to remind himself that Derek was a grown ass man and didn’t need someone to “Pretty Woman” him, but the idea of the guy staying at the shitty excuse of “lodging” didn’t sit well with him. His nerves must have been showing a little, because Derek just huffed obnoxiously in his direction. 

“What?” He barked, directly after the aforementioned huff. 

“Okay, look. I know that we’re not besties or anything and I swear I’m not trying to be your Richard Gere or whatever but I thought I should at least offer, man. It’s no penthouse suite, but my place is comfy and there’s not likely to be a dead body in any of the rooms, which is more than I can say for your current abode.” Normally Stiles’ hands would be all over the place but since he was driving, one was on the wheel and the other, well okay, it was moving around quite a bit, but Stiles was an expressive guy. 

He chanced a quick glimpse over at Derek and was surprised to find his features open and maybe a little confused, but not angry and that was all Stiles needed to continue. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m not an easy person to live with. Nobody except maybe my dad loves me more than my best friend and even Scotty couldn’t put up with me for more than three months.”

Derek seemed to be deep in thought or perhaps just somewhat awkwardly ignoring him, Stiles wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until the mustang turned onto the cracked and uneven payment of the hotel parking lot that he got a response to his offer. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asked, barely above a whisper. Stiles was thankful he heard it. He was, sure that is. Although Derek seemed more hesitant and uncertain than Stiles had been in a long time. He turned the key over, shutting the engine off. His hand instinctively reached out and grabbed Derek’s arm as he reached for the door. 

“I’m not.. I don’t have a death wish or anything. You had plenty of opportunities to do me harm and you didn’t. I think maybe that makes you an okay person,” Stiles answered with a shrug before continuing. His heart hammering fast in his chest as he began, the words tripping out of his mouth with little thought. “Take it or leave it man, I don’t care but you’re welcome to a guest room at my place until you’re ready to look for something more permanent than...this.” 

Derek nodded, and even though he didn’t show his gratitude verbally, Stiles knew he was grateful. The slump of relief in his shoulders and the hard lines of his features smoothing out just enough to make him curious as to how long Derek had been…well, Derek. “Just let me get my stuff.” 

“Do you need any…” he was cut off with the quiet slam of the passenger door. “Guess not,” Stiles mumbled to himself as he started drumming his fingers across the smooth leather of the steering wheel, blowing air between his teeth to make a fairly impressive tune.  _ Y’know, for  _ _ CO _ _ 2 _ _. _

The door snapped open with a small jerk from Derek and Stiles forced a smile at the lone, medium sized, black duffel. How a man’s life could be contained in three feet of space wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on, lest Derek think he was feeling sorry for him or something. Some people liked, even needed to be able to grab a bag and go. Usually, hippies or criminals, but he avoided that too. His instincts were always fairly accurate and Stiles knew without a doubt that Derek was a decent guy. 

“Do you wanna stop anywhere on the way? I don’t really have a standard nine to five schedule or anything so I can start whenever.”

“No,” Derek answered, his gaze aimed out the side window. He didn’t even bother turning around. Stiles wasn’t offended or anything, but he might have been slightly disappointed that he couldn’t catch more glimpses of the chiseled features that made up the handsome face of his passenger. 

Even though Derek couldn’t see him, Stiles nodded and pointed the mustang toward home. When he couldn’t stand the silence any longer he reached to flip the radio on. Stiles was grateful when he heard the familiar sound of indie rock spilling from the speakers. He sang along quietly and if Derek had a problem with it, he didn’t seem to want to verbalize it, so Stiles counted that as a win. 

Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly LA so it didn’t take but about fifteen minutes before he was pulling into his driveway. Stiles would have offered to carry Derek’s bag, but the guy still had it in a death clutch of his hands. That lead to Stiles thinking if his entire life was in a goddamn duffel, he’d probably be pretty overprotective of it too. He motioned for Derek to follow him as he rushed onto the porch and through his front door. 

“Welcome to Casa de Grayskull, feel free to make yourself at home here. If you need anything just let me know, and you can grab any of the guest rooms. You’re not an idiot so I imagine you can figure out the floor plan easily enough. I mean it’s obviously not a small house but it’s not big enough for you to get lost in.” Stiles said, waving his arms around like a damn model on the price is right. 

He wasn’t going to belittle Derek’s intelligence by “giving him the tour,” like others he’d visited and there weren’t any like secret rooms that were off limits so, it wouldn’t hurt for the guy to explore if he wanted. With a curt nod, Derek headed toward the room beside his. 

Stiles absolutely was  _ not _ disappointed that Derek was gone. “Ohhhhkay, guess I’ll get to work then.” he mumbled to himself, before moving toward his office off the back side of the kitchen.

* * *

Derek didn’t know how he got himself into these kinds of situations. One minute he’s perfectly fine with the idea of never seeing Stiles again, despite his wolf’s stubborn pout. The next, he’s seeing whiskey brown eyes and scraping his gaze over pink lips that get chewed on regularly making them nice and plump. Obviously, that leads him to making stupid decisions like moving in with a client within less than twenty four hours of knowing them and then having to deal with a very concentrated scent of Stiles everywhere. 

When he stepped into the guest room, Derek was relieved to find that Stiles apparently didn’t spend much time in the empty spaces of his house. There’s a faint trace of someone else, but mostly just clean cotton and hints of detergent. His wolf wanted to rub his scent on everything, wanted Stiles’ den to smell of them, but once again Derek fought the urge. He did however, empty his clean clothes into a small drawer and slip the duffle bag into the open closet behind some lacrosse gear that had either never been used or was sterilized heavily before being shoved out of the way.

Although he’d already cleaned up, Derek was itching to find out what kind of shower was off to the side of his temporary room. With a shrug to himself, he decided to find out anyway. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He opened the door to perhaps one of the most beautiful bathrooms he’d ever seen, and that was saying something. Dark grey tile filled the floor and a much lighter contrast on the walls. The shower was fully glass and almost directly in the middle of the room. It was as if someone spent a lot of time designing it, much more effort than had been put into any of the others he’d seen, even the master bedroom. 

Derek excitedly pulled off his clothes and stepped in the shower, not even bothering to grab his toiletries. He figured out the knobs easily enough and soon there was a glorious spray beating down on his back. The pressure was fucking perfect, and it instantly soothed his mind and body despite the fact that said body had already healed itself from all the aches and pains involved with passing out on a goddamn park bench. 

He stood there for what must have been half an hour and then immediately wondered how long it would take him to empty Stiles’ water heater. Deciding it wouldn’t be a nice way to start off his temporary stay, Derek turned the water off. He reached for a towel and groaned at the softness of the fabric. He dried himself off quickly, shaking the fluffy cotton through his hair. He slipped into his more comfortable clothes, an old pair of sweats and a band tee that barely fit him anymore, but it was worn soft and Derek loved the way he could sometimes catch the scent of family or pack from it. Even if it hurt, even if it was just his imagination, he wouldn’t give that up.

_ Even if he doesn’t deserve it. _

Not even twenty minutes later Derek fell asleep on one of the softest mattresses he’d had since he left New York. Occasionally when he was extremely lucky one of his higherp end clients would buy a room at one of the luxury hotels, Derek usually left after they were finished but sometimes the John would have to leave and then...well, then Derek stayed.

It’s probably weird that Stiles hadn’t gone to check on Derek but his work distracted him and he only noticed time had passed seven hours later when his stomach began to rumble beyond obliviously ignorant levels. He couldn’t put it off any longer and made his way back into the kitchen. He scoured the fridge first. There was some leftover chinese, a few kinds of sandwich meat and some brownish vegetables that were probably unsalvageable. He scratched his stomach as he debated finishing off the sweet and sour pork. 

With a nonchalant shrug to himself, Stiles figured first come first serve. If Derek wanted the delicious scraps he should have eaten it already. There was food, it wasn’t like the guy would starve. Finally convincing himself it wasn’t rude, Stiles grabbed a fork and dug into the box, he was so not coordinated enough to use chopsticks without someone losing an eye, most likely him. He stuffed his mouth full before tossing the rest into the microwave, glaring at the machine as it took more than two seconds to heat his meal. 

After he’d emptied over half the container, Stiles figured he should probably make sure his guest wasn’t starving to death waiting on him to play host, or you know that he hadn’t just left or something. No joke, the guy was pretty stealthy. 

Stiles knocked on the door he watched Derek disappear into and there wasn’t an answer. Hesitantly, he opened it wider and nearly choked on the bit of pork he’d just tried to swallow. “Shit, shit sorry.” he yelped, backing quickly away from the door. 

Mortified, Stiles threw himself back into the kitchen, flushing cool water over his heated face. Derek was shirtless pumping himself up and down on the floor, the muscles of his back rippling under the strain. It was by far the most erotic thing he’d ever seen that close up. He’d gotten a healthy view of Derek’s naked torso the night before, but it had been different. This was, well he instantly began to picture himself on the floor beneath Derek and sure enough his dick caught on quickly. 

Just as he started to regain some of his composure, the greek god stepped out of the bedroom still half naked, still sweaty, muscles still...muscling. Stiles groaned at the picture. He knew that Derek wasn’t his all the time, that he couldn’t just take the man in the middle of the room just because he was staying there, but Stiles wanted nothing more than to fling himself at Derek and hope that he stuck like one of those fuzzy suits you could wear to jump on giant sheets of velcro. 

Derek just raised an eyebrow at him, like that silently communicated his confusion, which well okay it did, but still...there were words he could have used. Stiles just awkwardly cleared his throat in response muttering another apology. 

“For…?” 

Always loquacious, Derek. 

“Uh, interrupting your...um...workout. or whatever. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead or like...starving to death, thinking I was going to be polite.” he answered, to which Derek gave a nod of understanding and ...appreciation?

“Okay seriously dude? I mean don’t get me wrong I wasn’t expecting you to just start spilling all your secrets or anything but in case you weren’t sure, words are very much accepted and appreciated in our interactions in and out of the.. agreement.” He said, his hands gesturing to convey his sincere distaste for silent Derek. 

Derek didn’t seem to get that, because that fucker just nodded again. 

Stiles gaped at him openly, and Derek’s mouth started to draw up into a barely there smile and that’s when Stiles understood. 

“You dick,” he said, faux indignation in his tone.

Derek just rolled his eyes and shook his head, chastising Stiles as if he’d brought it on himself, which well he had but he didn’t need Derek’s goddamn facial features giving him the blame. Before he could work himself into a fake/real fury, the guy just cocked his head to the side with a smirk.

“I didn’t expect you to be polite.” Derek answered, moving into the kitchen and grabbing a glass from the second cabinet he searched and filling it up with ice and water. 

Stiles’ head jerked back “I’ll have you know, I’m a peach...usually.” 

Seemingly taking pity on him, Derek moved closer his smirk fading just a little. “Stiles, I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself. If I want something that you don’t have I’ll just go get it.”

“Yeah, I mean of course you can. The store is like a five minute drive from here. I’ll just… leave you to it then,” Stiles replied, fumbling just a little as his eyes dropped down to refocus on the glorious image that was Derek’s pectoral muscles, and defined abdomen. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, causing his eyes to snap back up to the undeniably gorgeous face. 

“Yeah?” he answered, mentally forcing himself to keep his eyes above the neck. 

“Am I working tonight?” He asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and Stiles imagined it probably was for him but it didn’t feel normal when the spike of want curled higher, seeping into his gut. It didn’t feel normal when his heart began pounding hard against his chest and his skin flushed at the thoughts of Derek working for him right then and there. 

“I uh, I mean if you want to, but there’s no umm.. there’s no pressure. I don’t want you to think because you’re staying here that I expect.. I don’t know, you know what I ..” he stopped, Derek’s voice cutting him off.

“What time do you want to start?” 

“Oh, oh.. uh..whene-” 

“Don’t say whenever, be a businessman Stiles. I’m your employee. What time does my shift start?” 

Stiles nodded in understanding and then thought out his options. He didn’t have a schedule, but something told him saying right now was probably highly unprofessional. So instead, he logically mapped out the best outcome and then it was easy to make a quick decision. “Eleven, we..you start at eleven.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” 

_ Stiles was so fucked  _

His eyes gleamed with desire when the small voice in his head suggested it might be more literal than figurative.

* * *

Derek found a twinge of joy in the quick interaction with Stiles. It was easy to see the guy was hesitant but if he was expected to truly do what Stiles had asked of him, Derek knew he’d have to teach Stiles to be less uncertain. He’d have to learn to articulate what he wanted with/from a partner, otherwise it could end up anywhere between dissatisfying to dangerous for everyone involved. 

With his workout interrupted, he found it difficult to slip back into the routine, the spicy, sweet scent of Stiles’ arousal had nothing to do with it, nothing at all. Derek growled as he pushed his muscles harder, forcing his body to snap into place with rushed, but fluid repetitions. Thankfully, the somewhat gross but satisfying smell of his own sweat overpowered the hint of cinnamon that lingered behind. 

Once finished, he went looking for food. His wolf’s appetite wasn’t mild, and he’d skipped over lunch in favor of a nap. It had been hours since he’d finished breakfast and although Derek was a decent cook, he didn’t want to take over an unfamiliar kitchen, even if he knew Stiles wouldn’t mind. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that was bothered by much, actually. Locating the bread, some deli meat, and cheese, a sandwich was an easy and quick decision. 

Derek showered for the third time in one day, actually lathering himself up and languidly washing every inch of his skin. He made sure to trim his beard and that it wasn’t too rough, not wanting to leave harsh burns on Stiles’ skin. Checking the clock as he finished his hygiene routines, Derek noticed he still had over an hour before he needed to be ready for the next  _ lesson _ . 

He picked up the well worn copy of The Hobbit out of his bag and flicked to the first page. 

_ In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. _

His alarm sounded at fifteen til eleven, and Derek fought back the curl of desire in his chest. It’s a job, nothing more. Sure, Stiles is obviously attractive and there was no rule that said Derek had to be miserable throughout the night, but actively looking forward to the evening in a, decidedly non-giddy way, was unacceptable. 

“It’s just a job,” he told himself as he spread out on the bed and lubed up a couple fingers just in case. Despite his larger frame most guys who ordered a male prostitute expected them to be a bottom, and Derek had no issues with taking cock, it never hurt to be prepared. Soon he was finished, and willing his half hard erection away. 

Derek slipped into one of his loosest pairs of jeans and a soft grey tee shirt, taking one last look at himself in the mirror before stepping out the door of the guest room a couple minutes early. 

“Stiles?” he asked, he could hear the fast paced rhythm of Stiles’ heart and knew that he’d moved to the bedroom, but he didn’t want to enter uninvited. Then Derek caught the sound of a stumbling deer, knocking into something. 

_ Yeah that’s Stiles.  _

Derek’s lips uncontrollably drew into a smile as he thought of the lanky, somewhat adorable, undeniably ridiculous image that might be waiting on the other side of the door. He gave a small knock just a second before hearing a weird bird-like noise on the other side, a groan, immediately followed by Stiles’ voice.

“Just a second!” he shouted through the door, so Derek backed away from the entrance and placed himself seductively on the other side of the small walkway. His back pressed flat onto the tan painted wall with his hips arched out just a little, a small smile on his lips to convey just the right amount of excitement, wanting to hide the volcano of want bubbling in the depths of his gut.

When Stiles opened the door, Derek was immediately assaulted with the scent of chemically infused soap and he struggled to not draw his nose up in disgust. There was quite a bit of nervousness rolling off Stiles too, and despite his smile, Derek could see he was hesitant. Not to mention, Stiles just stood there, blocking the entry to his room.

“Stiles if you don’t want to..”

“No no no , I just..” he cut in, only to falter a little while obviously trying to come up with an explanation for his anxiousness. “I mean, I might be a little worried that I’m going to be a disappointment or something...even though that’s kinda why we started this whole thing.” He mumbled the last part, as if it was only meant for himself, but Derek thought even without his wolf he’d have been able to hear it. 

“I promise, there’s very little you can do wrong. Even this, the worrying, that’s normal. It’s not just you and you’re not any worse than anyone else would be.” Derek hated that Stiles felt the need to be worried, sure he wasn’t suave or smooth, but anyone would be lucky to spend time with the boy. “Would you feel better if I grabbed a bottle of wine and we just talked for a while.” 

Turning on his charm, Derek let himself smile a little, barely noticeable but enough for Stiles to pick up on. “Well, you can talk, I’ll just brood in the corner.” 

That must have done the trick because immediately, Stiles swung the door open entirely with a loud laugh. “Sorry, man. I just..”

“Stiles, it’s okay...wine?” 

“Actually, I’m more of a beer guy.. c’mon.” Stiles answered, moving into the kitchen and digging a couple cold bottles from the bottom drawer. Once they both had a drink, Derek took control and pulled Stiles toward the couch. He reached for the remote and passed it over, loving the way that the boy’s shoulders sagged in relief. 

There was some kind of superhero movie playing in the background but before Derek could take a real interest, Stiles was bubbling over with excitement and wild gestures as he explained the backstories and a multitude of other things. Derek had a hard time keeping track of it all, honestly. Most importantly though, gone was the sour scent of anxious panic. 

He was mostly able to keep up, only some of the finer details slipped through the crack as Stiles’ commentary sped out over the speakers. Derek didn’t mind. He was sure it was a decent film, but he’d not had any real interest in them in a long time. In New York he’d watched several foreign pictures, and a few blockbusters to have something to discuss in a crowd, if necessary but he didn’t watch them for fun, and certainly not with the passion that Stiles so obviously had. 

Without thinking too much of it, Derek smiled at Stiles. He could feel his lips pulling up so far that he was sure the dimples he rarely used were showing. Stiles’ verbal and nonverbal cues just stopped, had it not been for the fact that Derek could hear the slight pickup in the boy’s heartbeat he’d have worried. Instead, he leaned in, lifting Stiles’ chin and brushing his thumb lightly over the contour of his jawline. 

Derek inched closer in slowly, giving Stiles plenty of time to pull away or even start freaking out again. When he caught a whiff of the spicy sweet scent of arousal instead, Derek surged forward and captured Stiles’ unbelievably attractive mouth. He kissed him passionately, with just a hint of desire and it worked perfectly. Stiles became pliant under his hands and Derek was eager to mold him countless delicious ways.

He could feel his own excitement growing against the denim of his jeans, rapidly getting even harder as Stiles climbed onto his lap. Stiles straddled Derek’s hips, making it much easier to access the round curve of the boy’s ass. 

The sounds that Stiles made, were amazing. His wolf smug as he found new and different ways to bring them out. When he began licking and sucking at the long, pale neck Stiles was practically vibrating in his lap. “Derek, please...I .. I neeed.” 

“Tell me what you want, Stiles. Anything you want,” he said, nipping at the tight skin just behind the warm, pink earlobe.

“I, can I t-taste you?” he asked, actually catching Derek off guard. It wasn’t as if he went into things with a whole lot of expectations, or even made plans usually...but the way Stiles was grinding on him, Derek had assumed he’d want to take care of his own throbbing erection. If it had been anyone else, he’d have suggested something different, but Stiles was special, and like this he was even kind of fragile. Although Derek didn’t underestimate the fire inside of him for one second.

“Yes, of course. Here… or?” he asked, not being opposed to the overstuffed plush couch, but Derek thought they’d both be more comfortable on or near the bed. 

“No, no I...the bedroom, just c’mon.” Stiles’ hand clutched onto Derek’s and the wolf followed instinctively. When he stepped inside, Derek found himself pushed back against the door. Stiles fell to his knees, giving Derek enough fantasies to last his lifetime.

“Okay, so I’m going to try here but if I’m not doing it right just like.. pull me off or something.”

Derek whined, the thought that Stiles’ gorgeous mouth could be anything less than amazing was just as ridiculous as the guy himself. He fought back a curse as the Stiles looked up at him and dug his fingers beneath the hem of Derek’s pants. 

“Just don’t use teeth..” Derek responded, he could be tempted to change that rule but not until Stiles was much more comfortable. 

“No teeth, got it,” Stiles answered, his eyes widening in awe as he pulled the denim and cotton down at once. When the boy licked his lips, Derek felt his knees begin to tremble. He’d had his fair share of people eyeing him, in both appealing and unappealing ways. Usually there were even whispers, things people said beneath their breath that they never imagined he’d have heard. It was always selfish and greedy, like they’d just use him to get themselves off. Derek didn’t blame them he’d had his own fair share of selfish fantasies. 

Although,when he saw the desire in Stiles eyes’ and the determination in the set of his jaw, Derek knew that the kid wanted nothing more than to satisfy him, to please him, and that thought alone was enough to make him lean back on the door for support. 

* * *

Stiles had spent a lot of time doing research, some of which was  _ not  _ just sitting in his room and watching porn. It just felt different, he was staring at Derek’s dick like it was the holy grail, he knew it, but he couldn’t help but be amazed. The guy was built...everywhere but even his dick was unfairly attractive, and Stiles knows , he knows that dicks aren’t cute, they’re not sexy even.. they’re kind of weird looking in general, but not Derek’s.

Derek had a godly penis and Stiles’ mouth was watering for a taste. He held it in his hand, squeezing just around the tip like he did for himself, but his hand was dry and he knew that didn’t feel nearly as good as it did wet. So, he licked the tip, running his tongue over the head and sucking it into his mouth. Derek’s hips shuddered, it was a barely there movement but Stiles noticed and he reveled in the idea that he was doing something right. 

Experimentally, Stiles sucked the tip between his slick pink lips, poking himself in the jaw with it but finding the spit from inside his mouth made it much easier to stroke what was left outside of his mouth. He moaned at the salty taste of sweat and was genuinely glad Derek had shaved because he’d never imagined the idea of licking somebody’s balls would be so appealing but he was itching to find out what they felt like, how heavy they’d be on his tongue. 

Stiles popped off, a string of encouragements were rattled off but he was only half paying attention as he stroked the long shaft and slid his tongue over the soft skin of Derek’s sac. He sucked one in his mouth and was rewarded with a spewed curse and a tight grip clenching at his hair. He dropped it down and repeated the process with the other one, gliding his tongue under them and pulling it up in a mostly smooth motion. 

“Fuck, Stiles. That’s that’s good, uh.. just maybe a little more?” Derek said, his voice cracking a little over the end and Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever been more proud of himself. He emptied his mouth immediately and noticed a small drop of precum gathering in the tip of Derek’s cock. When he looked up at Derek, the hazel green eyes were nearly black. 

Stiles was going to ask permission, but technically he already had, so instead he just swiped over the droplet and pulled it onto his tongue. It was salty, much like Derek’s skin but there was a hint of bitterness as well. Deciding he wanted more, Stiles sucked the head back into his mouth nearly choking himself on it in his eagerness. 

Derek was not made in the way that a skinny virgin twink could deepthroat him. Instead, Stiles gagged a little and pulled off right away as Derek whispered his praise. 

“This isn’t as easy as it looks in porn, but you’re doing so good, Stiles. I just want you to know you don’t have to do that your first time. It’s something you should work up to, I’ll help you,” Derek said, his voice soft but sincere. He wasn’t being placated, just reassured. 

Stiles nodded and then went back to work, he was licking and sucking and pulling Derek in as deep as he could without choking on the thick head. He’d not noticed the time passing until a choked off moan flew from Derek’s mouth he pulled Stiles off of him. 

“Fuck, Stiles. If you want me inside of you, I need you to stop. I won’t last much longer if you keep doing that.” Derek grunted between his panted breaths. His voice was rough and sent tingles down Stiles’ spine. The guy looked wrecked, and Stiles beamed with pride that he’d been the cause of it. 

“I, no, no that’s okay. I want this.. I want to taste you.” Stiles immediately pulled the head back between his lips and sucked harshly, clamping his jaws tight around the warm flesh of Derek’s cock and pushed his head down until he couldn’t possibly take any more. The hiss and growl that followed only encouraged him further.

Stiles moaned around Derek’s cock, pulling tighter even as his jaws began to cramp up a little. Knowing how much he didn’t want to give up, how badly he wanted to know what it felt like to suck a guy off completely, Stiles’ free hand rubbed at Derek’s balls and tugged on them just a little as he bobbed up and down. It wasn’t long before he heard a shaky warning and felt hot spurts of cum spraying onto his tongue. 

It wasn’t exactly the sweet creamy filling from a doughnut, but it wasn’t nearly as awful as everyone claimed. Stiles swallowed it quickly and licked against the tip until Derek pulled him up to his feet. He crashed their mouths together and Stiles wasn’t really sure what to think. He’d imagined nobody would wanna make out with their cum in his mouth, but he wasn’t complaining. Derek was an excellent kisser and Stiles was ready to take full advantage of those gorgeous lips. 

When they broke apart, Stiles’ mouth felt tingly and with just a hint of soreness added. It wasn’t til then that he realized what it felt like to be the good kind of sore. Well, he imagined it would be even more clear once he actually got around to the more intrusive parts of his sexual exploration/awakening, he hadn’t decided on a name yet. Still though, he was content by the mere idea of bringing someone else pleasure. The fact that it was a deliciously carved greek god of a man, was even more satisfying. 

Derek picked Stiles up, his legs naturally wrapping around the solid girth of Derek’s waist as he was carried toward the bed. He let out a small chuckle as Derek’s dopey grin drew into a playful smirk. His eyes flicked over Stiles’ crotch and he licked his lips dramatically. “How do you want me to take care of...that?”

“Oh, oh.. no you don’t have…”

“Stiles, tell me what you want,” Derek interrupted, spreading him out on the bed before pulling the hem of his own shirt up and lifting it over his head. Revealing the image most of his teenage wet dreams were made of. Gorgeous tan skin, a small trail of thin black hair leading down Derek’s torso dipping into the now softened cock. Stiles remembered it hard though, swollen with dark veins running up and down the shaft. The heat pouring from it as it pulsed beneath his fingers, his tongue. He doesn’t believe he’ll ever forget that. 

“I want you to finger me,” he blurted, because his life is a goddamn sitcom and Stiles always takes the path most likely to cause mortifying embarrassment to his person. 

“Okay, ...is that all?” 

“Umm, I don’t know? I just wanna know what it feels like.. I’ve never..y’know experimented ...with that umm area,” he answered, already feeling a little ridiculous. Derek was there to help him, the sooner he could get that through his own thick skull the better, but Stiles couldn’t help the desire to not look like an idiot in front of what possibly could be the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on. 

“Do you have any lubricant or should I get mine?”

“Nightstand,” he answered, feeling his whole body tingle with excitement. Stiles found it hard to believe that any of it was happening but when Derek turned around to move toward the other side of the bed, Stiles counted his fingers to be sure. 

_ Ten...good, that’s really good. _

“Okay, are you comfortable?” Derek asked, moving gracefully between Stiles’ legs. 

“Yeah, yup. I’m, good.” Stiles said, feeling a nervous pull in his stomach. He just hoped that it wasn’t really bad. Not enjoying butt stuff kinda cuts off quite a few of the bisexuality perks, and they don’t get a ton of good press, so not exactly like there’s perks to spare. 

“First things first… the shirt?” Derek chuckled tugging at the bottom of the cotton fabric. Derek’s lips curled into a smile, and Stiles’ breath hitched as he watched the green eyes scrape over him as if he were worthy of appreciation. The bitter asshole in the back of his mind said something about Derek acting, but Stiles shut him up quickly. 

“That’s better… now how bout the pants?”

Stiles swallowed hard against the lump in his throat but reached for his belt and jerked it loose quickly. He pushed the denim over his hips and tried to calm his rabbiting heart. He lifted his legs and kicked off the rough fabric leaving him in only a pair of tight boxer briefs. One small layer between his dick and all of Derek, gorgeous, amazing, very naked Derek. 

“Stiles, I know that you’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours but relaxation is the key to making this feel good for you. So, if you want you can try to calm down on your own or I can distract you.” Derek said, leaning over Stiles’ tensed body. 

“Distraction please, I don’t think I can do it on my own,” he answered, genuinely surprised at how easy it was to say what was on his mind. Derek had made him incredibly comfortable in an almost surprisingly short time. He was shocked that his trust was given so easily, to anyone. Stiles was suspicious by nature, being the son of the sheriff only seemed to add to it. He was wary of new people and tended to act on the assumption that everyone wanted something. It was more about how far they were willing to go to get it. 

“Okay, I can do that .. just one more time though...you’re sure this is what you want?” 

Stiles nodded shakily and Derek shifted forward, pushing their lips together as he pulled at the thin cotton band hugging his hips. Kisses were the best distractions, Stiles was pretty sure heaven was somewhere inside Derek’s mouth. He nipped and sucked at Derek’s lips until he felt a warm hand gripping his cock.    


The next thing he knew it, he was engulfed into the hot wet heat of Derek’s mouth and his hands instinctively jerked down toward the short black hair, bringing back all the memories from the previous night in vivid detail. Stiles groaned, knowing somehow that he’d massively screwed up. He found it incredibly hard to believe that anyone would be able to measure up to Derek once he decided he was ready to take off the training wheels so to speak. 

That idea alone caused a flash of panic in his chest, fortunately it melted away when he felt the head of his cock being swallowed by Derek’s throat. He’d been caught off guard so quickly that Stiles had almost completely missed the finger slipping past his rim. If not for the foreign feeling, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. It wasn’t the most pleasurable thing he’d ever felt but Derek’s mouth kept his focus well enough that he could still relax. 

Stiles was worried he’d not be able to last long, the excitement from having the weight and taste of Derek on his tongue already had him edged toward release. He would have felt guilty but if there were gold medals given out for this kind of thing, Stiles was pretty sure Derek would have a few. Suddenly something happened, like a jolt of electricity sparking through him, it hit so hard and fast that Stiles’ entire body arched off the bed and he cried out like it might be his last breath. Then just as quickly the pressure was gone and with it the insane amount of pleasure. 

“Holy shit,” he said, his breath panting out much quicker than it had before the touch, a light sheen of sweat forming on his skin. Stiles licked his lips and chanced a look down at Derek and found the guy smirking in approval. “Was th-that?”

Derek just nodded and lifted his thick eyebrows in curiosity. “You want me to do it again?” 

Stiles nodded enthusiastically, licking his lips as he tried to mentally prepare himself to react better the second time. Normally he’d be babbling anything he could possibly get his brain to process, but instead he was dead silent as he waited for the next jolt. It didn’t take long for Derek to find the spot again, sending pleasure through every nerve ending until his body was practically vibrating. 

“Fuck, yes...Derek, Derek p-please,” he moaned, begging for enough to send him over the edge. He was rewarded with a warm mouth closing over him once again and milking the ecstasy from him like a fucking vacuum. His orgasm was almost immediate when he felt the squeeze of Derek’s throat clamping down on the head of his cock and once again Stiles spilled without warning. 

Once he gathered his breath enough, Stiles began to cackle with joy. “Sorry, sorry, I swear I’m not laughing at you..or anything about...this. I just, I either get really tired or start to laugh obnoxiously,” he answered, hoping it made sense but the words were kind of barely laid over the sound of his laughter. 

Derek gave him an odd look, fondness perhaps? Before nodding and turning away from the bed. Stiles wanted to reach out, to ask him to stay but it wasn’t his place, the lines were already blurry enough with Derek staying with him for the meantime, he didn’t want to give the guy the impression that he was being kind for free sex or something. “Oh, umm. While I’m still awake enough to like actually talk this time...money’s the same place so…”

There was a glimpse of something Stiles couldn’t identify, a flash in Derek’s eyes before he gave a warm smile and shut the door behind him. Stiles found himself warm and sated despite the clinging regret that he hadn’t at least tried to ask Derek to stay. He buried his face in the comfort of his soft mattress and plush blankets of his bed, enjoying the momentary bliss he’d been able to grasp for once. 

* * *

Derek’s wolf whined a little when he turned and left Stiles’ room but since he wasn’t going far, it didn’t put up too much of a fight. When he walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he was curious enough to check the cabinet. Sure enough there was a box of captain crunch. He opened it and inside there were two thick wads of bills rolled up with bands tied around them. Part of him wondered if Stiles was just too trusting, or if he was really as stupid as he’d originally thought.

His wolf preened at the idea that Stiles trusted them so much, that they were given free reign in his den. Derek knew it was just means to an end and close proximity, he’d find some way to explain it to his wolf sooner or later. He grabbed one of the rolls fighting down the acid burning in his throat and shoved the box back into the cabinet. As soon as he’d gotten a drink of water Derek hurriedly retreated to the guest room and fought the urge not to wash Stiles’ scent from his skin. 

He didn’t care if it took five showers a day, Derek wouldn’t let his wolf get comfortable in another man’s scent, even if that man was Stiles, especially if that man was Stiles. Just because his wolf saw some kind of weird mate potential didn’t mean he was going to let Stiles adopt him like some sort of kept boy and he sure as hell wasn’t worth anything more to the guy than a few rounds in the sack. There was no use in letting himself think it was any other way. 

Derek finally settled into his bed, just a small lamp on the nightstand glowing to help him read. Once the words on the page took him into the fantasy world, he relaxed. Desperately searching for something other than Stiles to focus on. Derek couldn’t wait to be free, finding a place to live was first on his list. even with just a couple more nights with Stiles he should be able to swing the down payment on a decent apartment. Then it was just about finding another job. Derek was pretty sure sleeping his way through Beacon Hills wouldn’t do him any favors when looking for employment. 

It was then that he thought back to the night they met outside the club and Stiles had mistaken him for a bouncer. Sure, most of those guys were real douchebags but it wasn’t like Derek was winning any personality contests lately so he could probably fit in as long as they didn’t piss him off too much. It probably wouldn’t be a bad gig, if they were hiring. He could start there, and if he needed to find a nine to five, well he’d cross that bridge when he got there. 

Derek drifted off to sleep sometime between Bilbo finding Sting, and Bilbo finding the ring. It had been a long day, and his bed was incredibly comfortable for the first time in a long time. Not to mention the lack of undignified smells that he really didn’t want to know what were. He was content to shuffle beneath the covers, he felt… safe.

* * *

Derek’s eyes blinked open, the room blurry and the feeling of a heavy weight on his lids making him shut them again. It took a few seconds before the room came into focus and he could get a good enough look at his phone to see the time. He let out a small groan and a sigh when he realized it was well after dawn. Surprisingly enough his body seemed to revolt when he slept for too long, though he’d not had a problem with that in such a long time he’d nearly forgotten what it felt like. 

He shuffled around the room, digging into his bag for a pair of pants to slide on. While he’d enjoyed the feel of the soft sheets against his skin, Derek didn’t think Stiles would appreciate him walking around naked in his house, well maybe he would but it was probably impolite. He opened the door and headed straight for the kitchen, needing a heavy dose of his morning caffeine before he could be expected to think properly. 

Stiles was chewing on something that smelled like processed sugar and what might have been fruit at one time. It only barely overpowered the delicious scent of the two of them together. While milder than it had been the night before, the sweet hints were still there. When he took a few more steps, Derek realized quickly it was a pop-tart. He curled his nose up slightly in disgust but didn’t complain when he was handed a mug of warm coffee.

“Thanks,” he grunted, which was the extent of his stellar vocabulary prior to more than two cups. 

“Yeah, no problem. You want breakfast? I’ve got like cereal and pop-tarts...why are you looking at me like that?”

Derek had to stop himself from going into the familiar rant he used to spew to Laura every time she indulged in the weird human foods that were more chemical than food. Instead he bit his tongue and just shook his head no. When he opened the fridge though, Derek knew there would have to be a trip to the grocery store before he could prepare anything that would have been considered a decent meal. 

They sat in silence...well Derek did. Stiles however, decided to use the time to tell him stories about all of his friends and funny quips about abstract superheros Derek had never heard of. Who the hell was Ant-Man? Was that really the product of creative genius? Not in his opinion anyway. After he finished his first cup and became relatively willing to talk, he waited for Stiles to take a break for breathing before he interjected.

“Is there a grocery store nearby?” He asked, hoping that Stiles wouldn’t be offended by his lack of taste for the ...food type products, in the house. 

“Yeah, it’s just about two miles down the road. Are you looking for anything in particular?” Stiles asked, looking around at his kitchen like it had betrayed him. 

“Yes, food.” 

“Well duh, Sherlock. I meant what kind of food? I have Lucky Charms too I think, you don’t have to eat pop-tarts.” Stiles said, like that would certainly clear up the problem.

“No, I meant things like eggs, bacon, sausage, flour...ingredients. Not ...cereal,” Derek bit the last word out like it was a death sentence, and in his opinion it was. 

“Oh my God, you cook too? Of course you do. Why am I even asking that. You’d probably climb a tree to save a kitten, or run into a burning building to rescue a pup-.” Stiles stopped, presumably because he’d seen Derek flinch at the supplied image of a house being engulfed by flames and smoke. 

“I cook.” He answered, ignoring the churning in his gut. “I also prefer my food with pronounceable ingredients,” Derek offered, refilling his coffee mug. 

“Awesome, I never really learned how to do more than microwave. I mean I can make grilled cheese and spaghetti, because who can’t but it’s usually soggy...both of them,” Stiles shook his head, apparently realizing he’d gotten off track. “Anyway, hell yeah. Home cooking for the foreseeable future, I’m so down for that. I can come with you if you want, but if not you can take my card but, just be careful with my baby.” 

Derek narrowed his gaze, inspecting Stiles as if he’d lost his damn mind. “You would hand me your credit card and let me drive off in your very expensive car...alone?”

Stiles seems to think about it for a second, now that it’s laid out before him. Derek’s waiting for the quick back pedaling but instead the kid just shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I trust you but even if you skipped out on me, you wouldn’t get far. Everyone in Beacon Hills knows that’s my car and I’d probably have to call ahead at the grocery store in order for them to let you use my card...it’s a really, small town Derek.” 

His head was still too rattled by the steady beat of Stiles’ heart as he slipped over the words  _ I trust you _ . 

“If you’re not busy, you can come with me. I’ll teach you how to shop like an adult,” Derek grinned, the warm coffee only half the reason for the heated rush in his chest. 

“Real funny, just gimme a few minutes to clean up.” 

Derek nodded, his wolf whining at the thoughts that Stiles would wash their scent from his skin, even if he’d done the very same thing just a few hours prior. He finished the rest of his cup and gathered his clothes from Stiles’ room, he’d forgotten them in his haste to retreat as quickly as possible. Then he rushed across the hall and dug out a pair of comfortably loose jeans and a thin blue tee shirt, before slipping on a pair of socks and retying his boots.

* * *

Stiles took a quick shower and threw on a pair of jeans, an old shirt, and a soft, warm hoodie. It wasn’t extremely cold outside or anything, but he liked the comfort it provided him and where Derek was concerned, Stiles needed all the comfort he could get. The guy was new and mysterious and Stiles had a long history of being unable to walk away from a puzzle. He knew he was on a ticking time clock, as soon as Derek could afford to get out, he’d be gone and Stiles would undoubtedly still be left with unanswered questions. He hoped though, that they could at least be friends and that Derek wouldn’t just cut him out entirely. 

With the thoughts of a rewarding meal on the horizon, Stiles rushed through the process even faster than he normally would have and he’d never really put any substantial amount of time into his appearance. He learned early on that it didn’t seem to do him any good so he thought why bother. With a quick try to tame his hair, Stiles gave up and stepped out of his room only to run smack dab into Derek. 

“Whoops, sorry man. I wasn’t paying attention,” he answered, a searing warmth curling through his shoulders where Derek’s hands landed. Fighting back a blush, Stiles moved toward the living room as he heard a slightly muttered, “S’fine.” 

“Alrighty then, let’s head out.” 

Stiles had been to the grocery store, quite often, in fact. It’d just been a while since he ventured over to this side where things were fresh, colorful, and rarely ever packaged. As they moved deeper, he was confronted with an enormous amount of green and that’s when Stiles realized what was happening. They were in the  _ vegetable _ aisle for crying out loud. What is Derek doing to him?!

“Oh my God, You’re a health nut!” Stiles shrieked, when the conclusion came to him. It shouldn’t have been a far stretch considering the taut muscle and probably negative percentage of body fat, but sometimes it took him a little while to notice things that he didn’t think were important. Why would he debate the nature of why Derek’s muscles were formed when instead he could just fantasize about licking them or..something. 

“Eating processed junk doesn’t just make people fat...it messes up your natural body chemistry. Real food, raw food, will help you in nearly every aspect of your life if you know how to make it work for you.” Derek grumbled, picking up a few plump tomatoes and popping them into a small plastic bag seemingly from nowhere and then placing them delicately into the cart. 

“How did I not see this sooner? Well, I was a little distracted, obviously, but still...you’re like an actual vegetable advocate.” Stiles would have normally been a little bit flushed at his own thoughts about distraction, but instead he was just stuck gaping widely at Derek who continued to load the cart up with anything that looked red, green, yellow, or purple...what’s purple?? Stiles felt like he should know but he’d long given up any information he’d been taught that he didn’t actively use. His brain was made for coding not remembering ridiculous names of equally ridiculous foods that he’d never need. 

Derek paused, Stiles watched as he pulled back a little, his hazel eyes scraping over up and down his body in a way that made his skin heat up. “One week, you give me one week to feed you nutritional food that tastes good, and if you genuinely can’t tell the difference,” Derek pauses, clearly thinking of a good reward, “I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant and not only pay for you to gorge on whatever grease filled monstrosities you want, but I’ll eat whatever dish you pick out for me.”

Stiles eyes went wide, and he clapped his hands together excitedly. “You’re so on!” 

_ Derek would regret the day he issued a challenge to Stiles Stilinski.  _

* * *

  
  


With the smug glee shining back at him through Stiles’ whisky brown eyes, Derek knew it was probably a mistake, but he didn’t really care enough to think about recalling the offer. The smell of happiness pouring off Stiles was enough to have shut him up either way.

He tried not to think too much, focusing on what meals he wanted to make, and everything he’d need to do it properly. The image of Stiles practically jumping for joy wouldn’t stay away for too long, stubbornly fighting its way back to his mind over and over again. He thought briefly of whether it was the opportunity to win something or just the bet in general that made Stiles smile that brightly. 

With that information, there was probably a lot more techniques he could use to “teach” or whatever it was he was supposed to be doing. It wasn’t really about teaching, it was always more about making sure Stiles was comfortable, because once he could feel safe and relax a little, the boy would drive any lover insane..that much was clear. Derek had seen just how observant Stiles was in other areas of his life, and his kindness and generosity were all too familiar. He knew that once Stiles got over the teenage mindset of holy shit someone else is touching my dick, that he’d quickly prove to be an attentive, sweet, and unselfish partner. His wolf whined at the thought of anyone else discovering it.

They moved through the aisles, Stiles’ hands flying wildly as he talked about his best friend Scott, a business partner, Danny, who Derek remembered him mentioning before, and his dad...the sheriff. 

The wheels of the cart squeak to a stop as Derek’s brain flits over the new information. “What?” 

“Huh?” Stiles asked, probably not realizing what he’d said that gave Derek pause.

Swallowing hard, Derek took a deep breath. “Your dad is the  _ sheriff _ and you just now thought I should know this?” he ground out, feeling his wolf pull to the surface.

“Woah dude, what the hell? Are you like.. running from the law or something? Otherwise, I don’t know why you’d care...Derek?” 

“Excuse me for being a little concerned that a man who carries a gun, regularly, might find out that I’m screwing his son for money!” he hissed back, trying to control the volume of his voice, but Derek realized quickly, that like everything else in life, he’d failed miserably at it. 

“Derek, my dad’s cool. He’s not going to like shoot you for having sex with me. I’m an adult who makes my own decisions…’ Stiles trailed off, his calculating gaze boring even deeper beneath Derek’s hard exterior. “You sure this isn’t about something else?”

“You do realize that prostitution is illegal in California, Stiles. It’s not Vegas, and I’m not looking forward to seeing the inside of a jail cell.” If Derek didn’t need the money so badly, and hadn’t heard the truth in Stiles’ words he’d have already been gone. The last thing he needed to do was to piss off some small town sheriff and end up in handcuffs or with a bullet lodged beneath his skin. He shuddered at the thought. 

Stiles waved him off, as if it’s nothing. “Seriously, man. You’re freaking out over nothing. Beacon Hills.. well it isn’t exactly like Los Angeles or anything. Don’t get me wrong, I think if you walked up to my dad and propositioned him, he’d probably arrest you, but he won’t dig into your life unless you start causing trouble or something. He’s a good sheriff, but an even better man.”

Derek relaxed a little, not much, but enough to not take off running. With a sigh, he thought to himself for the millionth time that the only reason he was created to be so attractive, was so that someone, (God, life, you name it) enjoyed bending him over at every fucking turn. Wiping a hand down his face, Derek continued toward the register just wanting to get out of public as soon as possible.

* * *

Stiles let Derek’s odd reaction go, considering he hadn’t really given a lot of thought to the whole prostitution is illegal part before, but he realized not for the first time, he didn’t always think things through before jumping in  heart headfirst. 

He paid, despite Derek’s protests to at least split it, because he presumably eats a lot, but Stiles wanted the guy to save up all he could. Stiles didn't like the idea of Derek struggling for money, not when he had so much that he didn't even use, but he couldn't have just outright given him cash, Stiles knew for a fact that the guy was too damn stubborn to accept help that he didn’t feel he earned. Their arrangement was tentative enough as it is, Stiles didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. So he later promised, Derek can pay the next time. 

By the time they got home, Stiles could hear Derek’s stomach rumbling and his poptarts were long gone. He offered to help, but Derek shooed him off to the living room, or the office, just anywhere other than the kitchen. Stiles heard him mutter something about his goddamn hands being a distraction and finds a heat crawling up his neck because of it.

Twenty minutes later he had a perfectly cooked omelette on his plate with a hearty serving of sausage and some kind of sauteed vegetables. He took a good sized bite of the eggs and moaned at how fluffy and delicious they were on his tongue. Stiles bit into the sausage patty and was again surprised at how good it really was, not that Derek could have went too wrong with sausage. He’d made it himself, so it was relatively easy. Stiles couldn’t keep himself from looking skeptically at the colorful stir-fry, before swallowing the last taste of deliciously fried meat. 

“It won’t bite you,” Derek said, because he’s an ass sometimes, Stiles has noticed.

“I know, I’ll try it. I’ll keep an open mind.” Stiles promised, even though he felt like he was already biased. As a last stitch effort to keep his word, Stiles closed his eyes as the fork met his lips and tried his damndest to focus on the taste alone. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world but he could still taste the earthy? vegetabley-ness to it. Although, Stiles did realize that Derek deserved a lot of credit for turning peppers and whatever else into something actually edible. 

As they finished their meal Derek laughed at the way Stiles forced the healthier side down between bites of the more appealing choices on his plate, while Stiles told himself Derek’s smile wasn’t worthy of being one of the seven wonders of the world, and his laugh definitely was not the most glorious sound he’d ever heard. Somehow, he managed to call himself out as a liar. 

_ Damn conscience.  _

He went back to work quickly, and the rest of their day kind of blurred together. Derek brought him lunch, and when he’d not came out of the office, Stiles found himself being pulled out for a late supper. 

“I can see why you’re so skinny…” Derek trailed off as Stiles scooped his plate full. 

Stiles just shrugged, his stomach eagerly waiting for the nourishment that his nose was already approving. “Sometimes I just get lost in the coding and stuff. I stopped taking snacks with me because I would lose days at a time, only taking bathroom breaks.” Stiles paused, looking up at Derek as he took his seat, slightly nervous. “Now, I make sure to do that, stay hydrated, grab something when I feel hungry, and I uh, actually set up a timer on my pc so that it saves my work and shuts down for at least eight hours at 11 o’clock.”

“What do you do for exercise, it’s clear that you’ve got a toned core and strong thighs.” Derek asked, his brows lifting up in clear curiosity.

“I run, usually at least five days a week. Sometimes, when I feel like that’s not enough I’ll do some crunches I learned from Danny, but make no mistake...I  _ do not _ enjoy working out,” Stiles answered with a wide grin, finding amusement in his own words and the way Derek shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I have no plans to put you on an actual exercise plan, I think your fitness routine is fine as it is, I don’t want you straining yourself. When things progress, you could pull a muscle, sometimes sex can be quite aerobic.”

Stiles choked on his water. 

Surprisingly, Stiles didn’t go back to work after they finished the meal. He rinsed off their dishes and put them into the washer, before heading toward the shower. Once that was over and he was dressed in comfortably warm pajamas, Stiles wrapped his fuzzy blanket around his shoulders and curled up on the couch.

He was just about to start a movie when he realized that Derek had closed himself back off in his room, once again. He thought it was better to ask than just assume he had something better to do. “Yo, Deeerek.” 

A few seconds later Stiles heard the sound of a creaky door opening and a couple footsteps. “You want to start early tonight?” 

Stiles’ head swiveled in confusion for a second before he realized what Derek had meant. “Oh no, no I mean.. that’s certainly a good plan B, but I was just wondering if you wanted to watch something with me. You gotta be bored out of your mind in there, unless you brought like a laptop with you or something…” 

“I have books,” Derek said, it wasn’t harsh, but very matter of fact.

“Oh,” Stiles had never been good at hiding his disappointment. “Well, I’m gonna watch something, you’re welcome to join me.” 

Derek grunted in agreement but disappeared back into the bedroom. 

* * *

Derek was very interested in watching something. It had been far too long since he’d caught up on some of his favorite shows. He’d had a really nice apartment in New York, but hadn’t really bothered saving up any cash. The trip across country had also been much more expensive than he’d planned, so by the time he made it to Beacon Hills he’d been so short on funds that he’d not been able to find an apartment he could afford. 

Now though, now Stiles was giving him the chance to earn what he needed to get by, he couldn’t ruin it by letting his emotions get the better of him. The boy looked entirely too tempting, curled up and soft as the low lighting made his gorgeous features even more pronounced and frankly, breathtaking. Derek could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he escaped, knowing he was rude, bordering on mean but not having enough sense to care at the moment. 

His wolf was pouting, and his human side was very aware of what his animal half felt about his self-martyring tendencies. The wolf didn’t think with logic and sense though, he wanted so much that Derek could never give him. This was just another thing in the long line of unfulfilled desires and neglected instincts. 

Restless but stubborn, Derek went back to his book which managed to entertain him for all of five minutes before he was craving physical movement. He fought back his wolf further by gliding to the floor and slipping into some quick fire pushups. Briefly wishing his phone was charged so he could drown out the thoughts in his head with some mind-numbing beats. Unfortunately, he still had to deal with the image of Stiles pliant and warm beneath him, the flickering wheel of moments they shared ran like an old projector through his brain allowing him no escape. 

When the tightening muscles of his arms and legs began to burn, Derek finally found his release. If he was simply human he’d have probably caused some serious damage for not stopping then, but in hopes of distracting his wolf Derek continued making the animal fight to keep them both healthy and alive. When a loud snap broke his concentration, Derek stopped, waited for the onslaught of pain only to hear another pop. His head jerked back in confusion until the aroma of his own sweat cleared and he caught the scent of salted butter. That was precisely when Derek realized that he’d gotten so far into his own head that he’d been a little freaked out by popcorn. 

Groaning he swiped his shirt over the sweat slick skin of his forehead. 

_ Fuck his life.  _

* * *

Stiles had just finished up the undoubtedly millionth rewatch of Captain America: The First Avenger when Derek eased out of his room again. He didn’t head straight for the seat beside Stiles which was more disappointing than he’d hoped but instead just edged into the livingroom. “Am I working tonight?” 

Stiles didn’t sputter this time, didn’t flail or freak out at the thought of having Derek’s body just that much closer. Instead he thought about saying no, wanting to give the guy a night off, but it wasn’t as if they’d gotten to the  _ aerobic sex _ Derek mentioned. He probably wasn’t like wearing himself out or anything. Still though, Stiles thought that he deserved a say in whether or not they fooled around. 

“Can I ask if you want to? like if the situation were different, you’d have the opportunity to just stay in, or call in sick or something,” Stiles said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling hard on it with the hope that he could in fact keep himself from saying any more, knowing it would be a complete disaster if he didn’t shut up.

“I’m fine to work if you want me to,” Derek replied, leaning against the wall with his unnaturally large biceps sticking out of his dark black tee and looking infinitely more sexy than anyone had a right to.

“Then yeah, that’d be good. Eleven?” Stiles asked, a tentative smile drawing his lip up. 

“Eleven,” Derek offered back with a nod, before turning back into his room.

Stiles only allowed himself a quick moment to be disappointed by the absence again. If Derek wanted to play hermit in his guestroom, who was Stiles to stop him? Well he was Stiles, so of course he’d try to stop him, but not yet. One focus at a time.

Stiles turned the tv off around ten thirty, wanting enough time to get showered and changed before Derek’s shift started. Something...new running through him, a new feeling that he wasn’t sure where came from. Maybe it was all the work Derek put into making him comfortable or hell, maybe just that he’d finally dug deep enough to find something he would halfheartedly call a flaw. 

_ Health nuts, man. _

Stiles wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew what he wanted now and he didn’t think he’d have trouble asking for it, or commanding it even.. though he’d probably ask, it was only polite. It might even have just been the knowledge itself that gave Stiles his courage, knowing that within a few short minutes he was going to tell Derek that it was time. That he was ready to be fucked now, that all pretense of virginity would be gone by the end of the night. 

He considered jacking off in the shower, wanting to last a little longer this time, but decided not to. Derek was probably capable of giving him two orgasms in one night, and Stiles was full of energy so he was pretty sure falling asleep on the guy wasn’t high on the chart of possibilities either. No, he’d let Derek work him open, maybe even get him off that way. With thick fingers stretching his hole and the sinfully tight mouth wrapped around his dick. Wrong train of thought for someone who’s trying  _ not _ to jack off, Stiles. 

He willed away his thoughts, instead occupying his brain with a few lines of coding that were particularly tricky, trying to twist, turn, rework them in his mind as he methodically washed himself. He toweled off slowly, making sure each and every inch of him was warm and dry before sliding into some loose pajama bottoms, sans boxers and even opting out of a shirt. Technically it wasn’t much different than any other night he’d ready himself for bed, only with an electric excitement pulsing in the air around him.

* * *

This time when Derek knocked, Stiles easily slid his door open and nodded toward the bed. To say he was a little surprised with the confidence pouring off the kid would be an understatement. Unable to hold back his smile as he felt a curl of warmth running through his chest when there wasn’t any sign of hesitance, no panic souring up Stiles’ naturally sweet scent.

Derek took a seat on the edge of the bed, a thrill of anticipation spiraling down his back as he waited. Stiles shut the door softly behind him and moved closer. Still surprisingly quiet, well for Stiles at least. Derek too remained silent, allowing the image of a newly fearless Stiles sink deep into his mind. He wanted to remember this, for when it was over.  _ This _ , Derek thought,  _ is the moment that he’d been waiting for. The moment Stiles discovered the man beneath the nerves. _

Derek scooted back a little as Stiles nearly strutted toward the bed, the heady scent of spicy arousal and want so heavy Derek nearly choked on it. Though, he was smelling as much of his own as he was Stiles’. The nearly naked vision of a confident Stiles being enough to have Derek half hard in his jeans without even the slightest touch.

Stiles straddled his hips, lowering himself down until he was seated on Derek’s thighs, their faces only inches apart. “Tonight, I want you to fuck me. You okay with that?”

Derek barely bit back his laugh, as if he’d be anything other than okay with that. As if that were even a possibility.  _ Fuck,  _ he’s starting to sound like Stiles in his head. Instead, Derek smiled. He smiled so wide that he was sure he was using long dead muscles in his face. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.” 

Unable to keep himself from doing it, Derek’s hands roamed down the warm smooth skin of Stiles’ naked back. He took his time getting there, mapping out the contours of lithe muscle and a slightly curved spine. Though it wasn’t long before Derek had the cloth covered cheeks of Stiles’ ass squeezed in his grip as the guy practically wrecked him with his mouth. Both with the heated, skillful use of his tongue and with the string of sinful phrases spilling from his lips. 

“God, Derek. You’re so fucking perfect.” He heard, it was barely above a whisper soaking into the skin of his neck as Stiles moved his lips against the beating pulsepoint of his throat. When Stiles began to scrape his blunt teeth across it Derek slammed his eyes shut hoping to disguise the flash of red. It was such a  _ wolf _ gesture, almost primal in intent that it caused Derek’s control to slip, just for a second. 

Derek squeezed Stiles’ ass and lifted them both in one smooth motion, grinning as Stiles licked experimentally at his lips again, tentatively almost. He was still confident, but there was a hint of subtle curiosity there that nearly compelled Derek to respond, to reassure him in his ability.

“You’re doing so good, Stiles. It’s like you’re a new person,” Derek hesitated, biting on his lower lip before letting a smile take over his mouth. “I like it.”

It wasn’t until he spoke that Derek realized it was the first thing he’d said since Stiles opened the door, that’s how off guard he was. It also occurred to him that while the younger man finally found his courage, that Derek himself was steadily becoming more uncertain. There was definitely something about Stiles that called to his wolf in a way that no one had in a long time, probably ever and yet he was expecting himself to walk away from this. Expecting to give his wolf this, give Stiles this, and somehow still make it out unscathed.

_ Yeah, right. _

He almost stopped it right there, almost backed out and returned Stiles’ money and just got the fuck out of there. After he deposited Stiles onto the bed with a slight bounce, Derek even backed away a little. It didn’t last, the vision of lithe muscle, pale skin, and whiskey brown eyes was too much, too enticing. The scent of spiced arousal and Stiles only making that decision even more impossible.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, clearly curious about the distance between them and Derek’s complete inability to form words.

He decided at that moment, that he was going to do this. If his wolf hated him for it later, well he’d deal with that then. For now, he would focus on Stiles.

Derek felt his lips pull up into a predatory grin and slowly crossed his arms over his torso and hooked his fingers under the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head. He smiled even wider as he heard the low moan that left Stiles’ throat when he stripped it off. He went for his belt but Stiles stopped him with a, “No, let me.”

Stiles inched a little closer to the edge of the bed and made space for Derek between his legs. His long fingers slowly tugged the leather band from it’s buckle and quickly got to work releasing the clasp of his jeans. The zipper moved down fairly slow and Derek’s breath hitched as Stiles’ hand rubbed over the outline of his cock beneath the rough denim fabric. 

He let his head fall back and Derek moaned, allowing Stiles to explore further. The deft fingers moved over the bulge pushing harder against his jeans causing some rough friction that nearly made Derek whine with how good it felt. He reached down to cover Stiles’ hand with his own and dig even deeper around his erection and grunted in approval when he heard the small “Fuck me,” escape from Stiles’ lips. 

Derek waited, enjoying the firm and steady strokes of his dick through his jeans until Stiles decided he needed to be undressed further. He was letting Stiles take control and there was something both terrifying and exhilarating in his choice. It wasn’t long though, before Stiles wanted more. He reached into the vee of Derek’s unfastened pants and let his hand tighten around the hard shaft. The skin on skin contact had Derek hissing in pleasure, a thrill of excitement swirling through his hips from the touch.

“God, Stiles. Your hands were made for this, for stroking my cock,” Derek moaned, reaching out to card his fingers through the short messy spikes of Stiles’ hair. He gave a little tug and was rewarded with a delicious moan.

Stiles released Derek’s dick from his jeans and when the air hit his flushed tip he felt a chill all the way through it, not having noticed the precum dripping from the head. He was genuinely surprised that such a small amount of attention could have him so ready, but Derek should have known. With Stiles, everything was intensified, overwhelming in the best and worst ways, simultaneously. 

Derek finally gave a harsh pull to his jeans and dragged them over his thighs. He kicked them over his feet too and there he was standing naked before Stiles his eyes darting over him in a way that made Derek’s pulse speed up and his body to feel like a livewire or a tornado that was just about to touch down.

“I feel the clothing situation is a little uneven here,” Derek teased, his smile bright, wide, and only a little fake. Well maybe not fake, more...false. He used it to mask his nerves and he hoped with everything he had it was working. 

Derek reached out for Stiles, almost instinctively. He playfully snapped the rubber elastic of the pajama pants Stiles was wearing and rested his hand there at the perfect contour of his hip bone. “C’mon, I wanna see you.”

Stiles took to it right away, digging his own fingers beneath the cotton and ridding himself of it quickly, fluidly. He didn’t stop there though, Stiles climbed further up on the bed and just when he’d gotten about halfway he flopped over on his stomach and proceeded to draw his knees under him presenting himself. Derek’s wolf nearly clawed it’s way to the surface at the sight and he thanked everything that Stiles was facing away as he fought it back down. The last thing either of his halves would want was to hurt Stiles and if he didn’t keep himself in check it was possible. 

“There’s condoms and lube in the night stand, take your time.” Stiles said, his voice giving away his smile.

Derek shook his head but he made his way over to the small wooden table and pulled out the unopened condom box and an almost half used bottle of lube. He slipped back around behind Stiles and licked his lips. Derek’s mouth was watering to get a taste of the fluttering hole. “Do you just want me to use my fingers to open you up or would you rather I get you nice and wet with my tongue first?” 

For the first time since they’d started, Stiles’ pulse rocketed and he spluttered a bit. “Y-you’d umm, you’d do that? You’d want to do that?” He asked, almost hesitantly, as if it was all some giant joke Derek was trying to play on him.

“I’d love to lick you open,” Derek said, pausing to push himself onto the bed behind Stiles. His hands instantly moved to cup the pale cheeks of his ass and spread them apart. “But if it freaks you out..I can just use my fingers again.” 

“No,” Stiles answered immediately, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Uh, nah I’m cool with it, if that’s something you’d wanna do.”

“You’re sure?” Derek asked again, needing to make sure Stiles really thought it through and just wasn’t giving in because it’s what Derek wanted. 

“Y-yeah, sounds..that sounds really good actually,” he replied, nodding over his shoulder as he looked back at Derek with lustfilled eyes. 

He smiled, the permission being the only thing that kept him from having his mouth on Stiles much, much sooner. He spread the plush cheeks open wide and let a little spit drip down the crack between them. Derek let his breath blow out slow and chilled against the small wet line and felt Stiles tremble beneath his hands. 

“If you like that just wait til I get my tongue inside you, gonna drive you fucking crazy Stiles.” Derek’s voice rough and raspier than usual, but he couldn’t be faulted. The sight of the delicious younger man spread out for him so eager to be..everything, Derek could barely control himself. 

He licked over the clenching hole, naturally tightening over nothing both out of want and nerves but it didn’t stop him. Derek’s tongue flicked against the rim and dipped in just a little. It was enough to draw out a shaky moan from Stiles. 

Feeling more confident about Stiles’ openness to being ate out, Derek didn’t hold back any further. He wrapped one arm around the thin hips holding Stiles in place and proceeded to dig deeper with his tongue until he could feel the hole clamping around it and Stiles began to whimper. Derek let out a satisfied moan when the body beneath him shuddered in ecstasy. 

He pushed and prodded at the walls of Stiles’ sloppy wet hole until it was practically leaking with his spit. Derek gave a small nip to the pretty pale cheek before pulling away entirely, half giving his own grunt due to being deprived of such a delicious treat. He wanted to get Stiles open though, his cock was so hard it was almost painful and Stiles had just began begging and pleading for more. 

Derek dipped a lubed finger past the fluttering ring of muscle and Stiles let out a loud moan. Even without his prostate being triggered Derek could tell he was enjoying the slicked slide already. He worked Stiles open, slowly enough to not cause pain but as fast as possible otherwise. He moved up to two fingers and added another generous dab of lube to his digits and dug in, curling them up until he felt the small button and Stiles practically shot off the bed. ‘There we go, can’t wait to get you stretched enough to slide inside you. Want you to feel my cock press against it, it’s a completely different experience.”

Stiles began panting, his breath hitching anytime Derek even neared the tight bundle of nerves hidden inside his rim. He scissored his fingers as much as the clenched hole would allow and slowly but surely it began to expand and spread making plenty room to add another finger. That seemed to make Stiles whimper and whine and beg to be filled which did nothing to help Derek hold back. 

“Fuck, that mouth of yours Stiles,” he said, trying to focus all his attention on getting the hole slick and open enough to be able to handle his thick shaft. It normally wasn’t that sexy, sure if Derek concentrated on how tight it would be around him, or how long and slow or hard and fast he was going to fuck the person he could keep himself hard, could stay interested through even the most intense stretching. But it wasn’t anything like this, he’d never been so damn hard, maybe ever and the mere sight of Stiles’ rim fluttering shut around his fingers took his breath away.

Finally, _fucking finally,_ Derek had made room for his cock and immediately found himself wanting to flip Stiles over, needing to see his expressions, watch as his face shifted into pleasure or pain, joy or sadness, anything... _well,_ _everything._ He curbed his instinct though, instead asking what Stiles wanted because as much as Derek was losing himself into this..whatever was between them, he still recognized that it wasn’t about what he wanted, it was all about Stiles. 

“How do you want me?” he started, choosing his words carefully. He was trying to lead Stiles to another position, any position where he could see those gorgeous amber eyes and long pale neck. Derek shifted until his body was mostly covering Stiles, dropping kisses and nibbles down the smooth skin of his slightly arched back. “I could flip you over, pull your legs back and slide right inside your tight little hole.”

Stiles let out a whimper and a moan when Derek suggested the idea, but he still didn’t have confirmation, and he wouldn’t do it without explicit consent. With an internal sigh, Derek offered another choice, “We can stay like this, if you want I can just readjust my hips and I’ll be right inside you…”

“No, no-I, ungh, I want to s-see you Derek.” Stiles shook and let out a guttural moan as Derek pressed hard against his prostate forcing him to arch off the bed and cry out a broken and wrecked semblance of his name.

Derek’s mouth widened with a smile when he got what he needed, that it was what Stiles wanted as well only made it better. He slid the condom over his cock and almost hissed with the attention from even his own hand after being neglected for so long. He rolled it on, doing his best to fight against the urge buck up into his fist knowing the reward would be much better if he didn’t.

With superhuman flexibility, Derek flipped Stiles over while reaching for the pillow at the top of the bed and pulling it down to nestle softly under the lithe frame beneath him. He leaned in again, sucking and pulling at Stiles’ lips until they were both panting breathlessly again and Stiles had began to whimper and whine against his mouth. “De-rek, puh-please.” 

Derek’s fingers dug into the flesh at the back of Stiles’ thighs as he gently eased them back toward his chest, letting them drop open naturally but not too wide that it might be painful. He lined himself up with his swollen tip pressed just at the edge of the shiny, tight rim. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, rough and with a surprise shakiness near the end. He used his blunt teeth to bite down on Stiles’ leg as he pushed past the tight wall of muscle and Stiles cried out. The pleasure and hint of pain invading his scent instantly. Derek slammed his eyes shut holding his wolf at bay as the clenching warmth seemed to pull him in on instinct Stiles had been greedy around his fingers and it didn’t seem to have changed with the thicker intrusion. 

Derek bottomed out slowly, sinking into the heated depths with little protesting from Stiles or his body. He nearly howled when finally felt his entire cock being swallowed up and there was no longer any soured notes in Stiles’ scent. Instead it was warm and inviting, drawing Derek in like a blissed out puppy. 

His smile went wider than he remembered it having been since the fire and he surged up to kiss playfully at Stiles’ mouth. The mood shifted almost entirely. The want, desire still a heady thickness in the air but Derek felt a curl of happiness snaking through each vein, twirling and winding around anything it came into contact with until it crawled its way beneath every inch of his skin and took hold.

Derek distracted himself from the delicious heat of Stiles by dipping in to drop kisses at any patch of skin he could access all the way up to the perfect pink lips open and dry from panted breaths and pleas spilling out. He licked at them slowly, dampening the broken skin with his tongue before pressing his wide smile into them and moaning at the feel of it. 

“You feel amazing, Stiles. You’re so beautiful like this, so perfect.” His words not at all quiet or hushed but breathless all the same. Derek moved slowly, pulling himself out almost completely only to push back inside. The pace agonizing but Derek’s body was trained to withhold it. He drew on extra stamina that he would’ve never had use normally just to keep from spilling like a teenager for Stiles. 

“Der-Derek, sooo good, soo fucking glad it’s you.” Stiles replied, his voice so low that Derek wasn’t sure he was meant to hear the tail end of it. 

The heat between them spiked as Derek’s body made slow, gentle thrusts. Sweat dripping from the hard planes of Derek’s muscle and from the lithe contours of Stiles’ body as well. He began to move a little faster, angling his hips until he felt Stiles wrench up in euphoric pleasure as Derek tapped at his prostate. 

It was only a matter of a few snaps of his hips and Derek had Stiles trembling with need and begging to cum. “I, fuck Derek, please, I need, harder, faster, come on Der-”

All too happy to give Stiles exactly what he asked for, Derek shifted his weight onto his upper arms and began moving in quick, forceful thrusts. He hammered into the tight heat until Stiles cried out and shuddered through his orgasm. Derek’s followed almost immediately, the sight of Stiles falling apart entirely was everything he could have hoped for and exactly what he needed for the pleasure to rip through him so violently that it was almost painful. 

Derek filled the condom and even his enhanced strength could barely hold him under the weight of it. He’d decided as soon as Stiles told him what he wanted that he wouldn’t allow himself any time of holding Stiles, no matter how badly his wolf whined for the intimacy alongside the sex. Derek knew if he stayed in Stiles’ bed for too long he’d never leave. 

He took a quick second to catch his breath before pulling out, tying the condom off, and moving toward Stiles’ bathroom to toss it in the trash. Derek splashed his face with water as cold as he could get it before turning on the hot and wetting a washcloth to clean Stiles up with. He put on a fake grin before walking back out, resigned to do what he needed to do. 

Derek took his time with it, not wanting to be too rough on the already worn out hole. He cleaned up as much of the lube as he could without hurting Stiles and wiped away the white spurts on the taut muscle of his abdomen. Derek’s wolf whined with the want to taste, to mark, to claim properly, but he ignored it.

Once Stiles was clean he dropped another kiss on his forehead but backed away immediately, fighting back the burning sensation that edged into the corners of his eyes. “I’m gonna grab a shower, let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

Stiles was still half dazed so he made no comment and Derek nodded before making his harsh exit. Once on the other side of the hall with the door shut behind him Derek dropped his head back against the solid wood and sighed. 

_ Fuck, Fuck Fuck Fuck Fucking Fuck. _

* * *

Stiles blinked awake, he wiped at his eyes and then brushed the cover across the side of his mouth. It was still dark out so he knew it couldn’t be time to get up yet. He stretched out his arms and immediately felt a twinge of soreness. It wasn’t painful but it was there and as soon as he felt it Stiles’ smile grew wider. 

He did it,  _ he actually did it...he had sex!  _

Due to the frankly ridiculous amount of energy running through him Stiles started to squirm and flail happily beneath the covers. He still couldn’t believe it. Not only had he finally lost his virginity, but it was with Derek! Sure, Stiles wasn’t exactly thrilled about the financial side of things but it had been great,  _ fucking  _ phenomenal, between them and it was clear Derek could use some cash, so win-win right? 

Thinking of Derek kinda left an ache in his chest but Stiles chalked it up to the weird mostly-imagined cliche of falling for whoever takes your virginity. He was above that though, besides it’s not like Derek would stick around once he got on his feet. Not that Stiles could blame him, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling warm and fuzzy when he thought about it.

Stiles ignored that in favor of the happier feelings coursing beneath his veins. He climbed back up the bed after sliding down in his fit of excitement and reached for his phone from the nightstand. Squinting a little, preparing for the brightness, Stiles checked the time; 4:07. There was no way he was getting back to sleep, not like this anyway. His stomach rumbled in agreement and Stiles found himself pulling on his pajamas and heading toward the kitchen, grin still wide and full on his lips.

Unable to think about anything else, memories of what happened began to play over in his mind as he turned on the coffee maker. He’d just started to dig around for something easy when Derek’s door popped open and Stiles dropped the bag of delicious strawberry toaster pastries onto the counter. 

“Yknow, the bet doesn’t work if you sneak pop-tarts in the middle of the night,” Derek said, moving closer. 

Stiles didn’t even have to turn around to know there was a smug smile on Derek’s face. “Oh these? Noo, these aren’t middle of the night food, they’re uh...celebratory snacks,” Stiles confessed, turning toward Derek with an even bigger grin. Folding his arms over his naked chest, Stiles leaned against the counter, popping his head toward Derek to fake whisper at him. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but I had sex last night...really,  _ really  _ good sex and that calls for a celebration!”

Derek rolled his eyes but Stiles saw the corner of his mouth twitch up even higher and he’d take that as a win. Offering the pilfered snack out to him, Stiles lifted an eyebrow. “You wanna join me? Just because you look like a Greek God doesn’t mean you can’t treat yo’self from time to time.” 

Just as Stiles pulled back Derek closed the gap between them pinning him against the counter. Only a breath away, maybe less; Stiles found it difficult to think straight. Derek was half naked just like him and that always seemed to make Stiles’ brain cells go haywire, but now Derek was smiling at him. Like a big wide smile and he was leaned in even closer, his bottom lip brushing across Stiles’ ear. “What if I said the sex was a treat.” 

Blushing a little, Stiles ducked his head and teasingly pushed at Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t be a dick, Derek. I’m offering you pastries from the Gods.” 

There was a split second where something passed over Derek’s face and Stiles started to feel guilty for brushing it off but almost immediately it was gone and he was backing away. “Put that away and I’ll make you something decent.”

A new tone in Derek’s voice, not unfriendly but certainly less playful took over and Stiles wasn’t a fan. The guilt that was waylaid momentarily was back full force and somehow he just knew he’d done something wrong. “Der- it’s really not a big deal, you don’t have to cook for me at four in the morning. I can wait til breakfast…”

“It’s no trouble and you probably need to eat something. You being hungry right now is your body’s way of telling you it’s low on fuel,” Derek answered, already dragging out ingredients, the hand mixer, and a griddle Stiles didn’t even know he owned. “If you want to go grab a shower or just watch some tv I’ll bring you a plate when it’s done.” 

Yeah, there was something wrong...Derek rarely ever minded Stiles just hanging out and watching him in the kitchen. A low sinking feeling started in his gut and a very small but very loud and somewhat childish part of him began to whine and long for the happy feelings that had been taken away far too quickly. 

“Yeah, I- I can do that.” 

* * *

Derek winced at the way he’d dismissed Stiles, the shift in his voice made it clear that he’d known something was up. It was a stupid move, getting that close to Stiles when he wasn’t actually working but he hadn’t slept much and his wolf was begging to be closer even if only an inch. Of course Stiles wouldn’t take him seriously, fuck Derek wouldn’t have taken himself seriously after everything he’d done to push Stiles away. He didn’t hang out with Stiles, no matter how many times the guy offered, he was friendly enough when they spent time together but never  _ ever _ stayed longer than necessary. Derek kept himself hidden away in the borrowed room, only coming out to cook meals, or work. 

As Derek began to mix up the pancake batter he sighed, he should have stayed in there.

Once the food was done, Derek decided to use it as an apology. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t think it would take a whole lot for Stiles to forgive him. He didn’t seem to be the type to hold a grudge over something so stupid. 

Derek piled a large stack of pancakes onto two separate plates, dropped fresh fruit slices into a bowl, warmed some butter pecan flavored syrup, and poured two cups of coffee, adding a touch of cream and sugar to one, just how Stiles liked. Reluctantly, Derek even grabbed the foil wrapped pastry as well. He stacked it all onto a large serving tray, took a deep breath and made his way into the living room. Stiles was watching tv on the couch, his bedcovers tucked under his chin making him look unbearably cute. Derek kinda wanted to hit himself for that thought but it didn’t mean it was any less true. 

Fighting off the nervous energy, Derek took a seat on the couch. As nonchalantly as he could, he sat the tray down on the coffee table and handed Stiles his plate. “See if you can find some old cartoons.”

Stiles paused and for a moment Derek thought this was it, that sure enough this would be the moment everything went to hell. Instead though, Stiles dug into his plate and shoved his elbow into Derek’s shoulder and let out a muffled grunt and words that sounded a lot like, “Find em’ yourself.”

After that things got easier between them. The stale tense atmosphere evaporated the moment Derek found Tom and Jerry. Soon enough they had full bellies and empty plates. Their mugs were cold before either of them suggested moving and even then, the idea was dismissed immediately. Derek’s wolf began to growl low in his chest, a hum of satisfaction as Stiles slowly nudged into his side warm and sleepy. Even the rational side of Derek wouldn’t have been able to give up the moment, it was too good, too perfect, he’d regret it later but for now it was there and real and he held on for the duration.

Derek knew he couldn’t stay, couldn’t allow himself the comfort forever. In a fit of borderline insanity Derek longed for the earlier versions of Stiles. The nervous kid who’d fumbled his way through awkward babbling and begged Derek to shut him up with kisses. It had only been a few days and already Stiles had slid into a new skin, adapting and absorbing it all like a sponge. He was confident and smooth with his approach, knew how to say what he wanted without stumbling over his words or leaving it up to a partner. It was beautiful and heartbreaking to watch because it meant the end of their arrangement was getting close. Not even Derek, who wanted to believe it more than most, could convince himself that Stiles still wasn’t ready to meet and seduce someone else. 

“Last night was good,” Derek confessed. 

They’d been stretched out there, Stiles curled into his side drifting in and out of sleep for nearly an hour when he said it. He hadn’t even meant to, the words just flooded out in some sort of full body flinch in response to the pain that was sure to come. “I mean not just technically speaking but you were more confident, you knew what you wanted and you didn’t let the anxiety mess with your head. I think you’ll be fine, Stiles.”

Suddenly the warn lump against him stiffened and Derek knew that Stiles must have been drawing his own conclusions about what that might mean for them. The air was heavy with silence for a few too many beats after that, it was almost suffocating Derek. The environment combined with his own mixed cocktail of emotions was enough to cause him to miss the scent of soured misery. 

“You’re leaving,” Stiles said, only a hint of emotion in his voice.

“As much as I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Stiles. That was actually in the terms of our agreement and I don’t want to string you along just because you’re paying me,” Derek confessed, his wolf finally dormant for a moment, which both pleased and worried him. He’d deal with it later on his own, this was for the best.

Stiles dropped the covers as if they’d burned him and rushed to stand up. Before actually walking away though he paused, making Derek’s heartbeat race violently against his eardrum. “You could stay, y’know...It doesn’t have to mean the end of us, or our friendship. I want whatever you want, Derek...but I think you already know that.”

With that Stiles walked away, putting a distance between them that caused a physical pain in Derek’s chest. 

* * *

Stiles felt his whole body start to tremble with a chill as he stepped into the solitude of his room. He’d basically put himself out there but now it was all up to Derek what happened between them and Stiles was a little too terrified it would be nothing. Sure he thought they shared something more than just a  _ business arrangement _ , but maybe he was just being naive. Reading too much into their interactions, it wasn’t as if Derek spent extra time with him very often. Their  _ not-cuddle _ on the couch was a one time thing and Stiles was at least ninety percent sure it was only because Derek felt guilty about pushing him out of his own kitchen.

Feeling heavier than he had in ages, Stiles spread out against the cool comfort of his bed. Thoughts and images of every single moment between he and Derek piled up, begging to be noticed. No matter how fast Stiles tried to bury them they just kept coming, an onslaught of beautiful memories torturing him with misguided information. Turning each significant look, every small touch outside of the bedroom into something more, into a real connection between two people.

Unaware that he’d even been reacting, Stiles felt a cool drip plop against the arm he had buried beneath his chin. He shook his head at himself as he brushed away the tear tracks. He was being ridiculous, he knew that. It had only been a handful of days since they’d met outside that nightclub. After knowing Derek, knowing what it felt like to have the man in his life, it felt wrong to lose him. Even the suggestion of it made all of the warmth inside Stiles huddle in a corner as if the slightest breath would erase it entirely. 

Just as he heard a small knock against his closed door, Stiles swiped at his eyes doing everything he could to get himself back under control. He kept his face turned away toward the window on the other side of the room and swallowed harshly around the heavy knot in his throat. Knowing his face had to be covered in red splotches and even more unappealing than usual, Stiles didn’t look up. “Yeah, come in.” 

Not for the first time in his life, Stiles cursed his active brain It seemed he was unable to rid himself of both the good and bad theories about what would happen once Derek pushed into the room.  _ Would he just say goodbye? Was he only interested in payment? Is there any chance he’d confess his undying love for Stiles, demand that there never be anyone else? _ Okay that last one was a bit too far out there, but Stiles’ imagination was just as if not more active than his brain.

Surprisingly, Derek said nothing. Well maybe it wasn’t  _ that _ surprising, Derek had never been much on being verbal but still somehow gave Stiles glimpses of what was beneath the surface. Stiles’ chest ached at not being able to dig further into who Derek was, even if only through those little peeks and glances.

Stiles waited, the silence put him on edge and normally he’d break but this wasn’t one of those times, this time it would have to be Derek.

  
  


* * *

It hadn’t taken long for him to decide, not chasing after Stiles immediately was actually painful. Not just for the wolf that had all but left him alone, but for Derek as well. He felt as if something inside him was being taken away and behind it an open scar, newer more vibrant than all the others. Derek wore those scars happily, knowing there would be nothing he could ever do to make up for the mistakes of his naive and ignorant past. This though, this could be fixed, this time he didn’t have to take the pain, didn’t have to run from it. Stiles had all but given him everything and all Derek needed to do was take it. 

He slipped in quietly, smiling as he moved closer to the lump of Stiles that splayed across the right side of the bed. Derek’s knee sinking into the mattress drew out a squeak of surprise from Stiles, making it difficult for him to keep in a chuckle. Still silent, Derek made himself comfortable behind Stiles, not forcing him to turn around. It actually worked better this way, Derek found it was much easier to build his courage when he didn’t have to look into the big brown eyes. With the salty scent filling his nose, Derek wasn’t sure that the sight of Stiles’ face swollen and marked with tears wouldn’t break him completely.

Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke. “I’m Derek Hale.”

“I know,” Stiles said, his voice shaky and quiet. 

“But-but how?” he asked, both surprised and confused that Stiles hadn’t said something sooner if he’d known. 

“I recognized you immediately, but I didn’t remember the details until I found you in the diner the morning after we met,” Stiles confessed, still being an eerily quiet version of himself. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Derek questioned, not angry just oddly curious as to why Stiles would hide it for so long.

“I figured if you wanted me to know your last name, you’d tell me. What good could it have done for me to pin you down with information you may not have wanted me to know?” Stiles countered, and he had a point. Derek would have probably taken off if Stiles had said something after breakfast, or even when he’d packed up his things at the motel. 

“Okay, well I’m telling you now. I’m Derek Hale.” Derek sighed, a fond exasperation in his tone. Stiles was too clever, always keeping him on his toes and never doing what Derek expected. 

Stiles let out a loud bark of laughter and finally turned over, nuzzling his head into Derek’s chest immediately. “Hi, Derek.”

A wide grin broke out on Derek’s face the moment Stiles shifted into him, it was more than he expected so soon. “I-I don’t want to leave, I mean I should.. if nothing else just so we both know that I’m not here because I don’t have anywhere else to be,” he paused, biting at his lip a little in hesitation. The biggest part of his confession was over though, he’d given Stiles his last name and that was something that not a single living person still knew about him. “But I’m not leaving you, or us. I want this to be more than some stupid business transaction.” 

“I think that was more words than you’ve used since I’ve met you, combined.” Stiles teased him, poking gently at his side. Derek’s fast reflexes helped him to grab at the finger before it could draw out any undignified noises. He slotted their fingers together and ignored the flutter of excited butterflies in his stomach.

“Yeah, well you’ve actually helped me believe that I can ask for what  _ I  _ want. So I’m asking, Stiles.” Derek replied, dropping a soft kiss against the pale skin of Stiles’ knuckle. “Can I keep you?”

Caught off guard, Derek’s mouth opened in surprise as Stiles’ eager kisses clumsily teased at his lips. He’d expected a verbal response but this was so much better. Stiles was hurriedly kissing him so deeply that it made Derek’s mind hazy with want, yet somehow managing to still let out these ridiculous bursts of laughter in the small spaces between them.\

Derek slammed his eyes shut when his wolf came running toward the surface like a damn puppy at the first sign of attention. For the first time in what felt like forever, both he, and the animal inside him were at peace. Contentment and happiness filling up the spaces that had been void since the fire. The pain wasn’t over, Derek wasn’t stupid enough to believe that his life was suddenly going to start working out, but Stiles...Stiles made him want to fight, to hold onto the good in his life even if it was only one person, even if it was all wrapped up in one guy. It was enough, enough that Derek could believe in a happy ending. 


End file.
